Out of Mournhold
by celestinaskym
Summary: Banished from her home in the City of Light, Fen is sent to the blighted island of Vvardenfell, where she soon finds herself caught in the centre of a mysterious prophecy. With the aid of a ragged young Ashlander, she must discover the source of the evil that plagues the island - and soon, the world.
1. Chapter 1

The finely lacquered doors swung open simultaneously, each one pushed by a guard in rose-colored armor. The guards held the doors back and stood at attention on either side as a young woman entered. Her crimson eyes were downcast, her thin, dark hair greasy from going unwashed for months hanging lankly down her back. Yet her narrow face was still exquisitely lovely, with high cheekbones and careful features that set her apart from most other Dunmer maidens that sported the common arched brows and pursed lips.

The man sitting on the raised dais before her was a mirror image. His own hair was just as dark, hanging almost shaggily around his handsome, fine-boned face, tucked into a gold circlet inlaid with rubies and tied back at the nape of his neck. His pale blue cheeks were smooth until they reached his carefully trimmed beard, then smoother still around his narrow lips. He gazed down on the maiden with his dark eyes full of contempt, the hands portruding from the embroidered sleeves of his robes clenching the arms of his throne tightly.

The guards stopped before the dais, the young woman between them. Slowly, she raised her head, and the second she caught sight of the elderly woman seated beside the man she let out a choked gasp.

"Grandmother!" she cried at once, dashing to the dais as the guards tensed. The woman she was referring to was withered with age, but still beautiful, deep laughter lines etched into the skin around her eyes and snowy white hair topped with a crystal tiara framing her face. The woman stood from her throne, smaller than the one belonging to the man beside her, but still grand, and opened her arms, closing her granddaughter in an embrace. The maiden breathed in the rich scent of roses and books, the smell of her grandmother. She began to sob against the woman's shoulder.

"Don't let him do this, Grandmother," she gasped between shuddering cries. "Don't let him send me away."

"Enough!" the man shouted, standing in a sudden flurry of rich purple and scarlet fabric. The hall fell silent save for the sobs of the young maiden, still enveloped in her grandmother's arms. "Guards!"

"Stay where you are!" the old woman shouted, clutching the girl to her breast, and the guards who had begun to move paused glancing at one another, then at the man, who was called Helseth. The old woman stepped off the dais and knelt down before her granddaughter, grasping her arms tightly. "You must be strong," she whispered, shaking the girl only slightly. "You know my control over Mournhold is limited even now, perhaps even more so in the coming weeks. You must be strong, Fen. Keep your head raised and always know in your heart that you are the princess of the City of Light." The old woman clutched the sobbing girl again in a brief embrace, then stood back as one of the guards roughly grabbed the maiden's arm and pulled her away again.

"Father," she tried, looking up imploringly at Helseth. "Father, please –"

"How dare you address me!" Helseth shouted, and one of the guards shoved Fen roughly to the ground, so she knelt before the two thrones. "You have committed such crimes against this family that you should be ashamed to call yourself by our sacred name!" He paused, composing himself slightly and sitting back down on his throne. "You are hereby stripped of your title and of the name of our family. You are no longer Fenara Almalexia Helseth, Princess of Mournhold. You are merely Fenara, and you are an individual of no consequence. You are now banished from the City of Light. May you never curse our hallowed halls again." The princess was silent now, her head down. "Get this vile creature out of my sight," he spat to the guards, and they wordlessly pulled Fenara to her feet and led her back through the lacquered doors.


	2. Chapter 2

Effe-Tei looked up from the scroll he was reading, his pointed reptilian face emotionless as the doors to the Reception Chamber opened and the guards pushed Fenara through, not bothering to stand at attention and simply leaving the way they came.

"This one falls," Effe-Tei said, quickly getting to his feet and hurrying over on lizard steps to where Fenara was curled on the mosaic floor, sobbing. "Princess?"

"Effe-Tei?" Fenara said, looking up at him. Her tear-streaked face brightened at the sight of the Argonian, and as soon as he had helped her to her feet she threw herself into his arms.

"Come now, Princess," Effe-Tei said soothingly. "You cannot go about groveling on the ground!"

"I'm not a princess anymore," she said, her eyes welling up again. She broke away from him and went to a rose-tinted window, staring out at the Plaza Brisindi Dorum, which was bursting with rich colors. The smooth white and gold of the walls, the dark stone of the statue of Almalexia and Mehrunes Dagon in the center, the sparkling water of the fountain surrounded by planters of pink Timsa-Come-By and small circles of rich green grass that surrounded the cobblestone streets. And that wasn't even the beginning of it, for the plaza was choked with vibrantly-dressed people going back and forth between Godsreach and the Great Bazaar, even beggars wearing gold threads. In Mournhold, the only thing that wasn't astoundingly beautiful were the sewers. "Oh, Effe-Tei, how can I possibly leave this city? I love it so much." She leaned her forehead against the glass, staring out longingly at the dizzying swirl of color below her.

"You must have courage, Princess," Effe-Tei said joining her at the window. "Have courage, and there is no doubt in my mind that you will return to Mournhold."

"At least you and Grandmother have faith in me," she said, smiling very slightly.

"Speaking of Queen Barenziah," Effe-Tei said suddenly, glancing quickly behind them to be sure the room was empty. "She asked me to give you this before I take you to Vvardenfell." He reached into his purple robe and drew out a sealed letter. "She said not to open it until you are alone and not to let anyone see it." Fenara's face brightened. Perhaps, she thought to herself, they are instructions of how to return after I reach Vvardenfell. How to come back.

"Thank you," Fenara said with a smile, tucking the letter into her tattered dress, which had once been a grand confection of embroidery and patterns and was now merely a rag draped over her narrow frame.

"We should go," Effe-Tei said, glancing at the door. He moved to the middle of the room, standing just to the side of a large circular planter bursting with Timsa-Come-By. He held out his scaly hands and Fenara reluctantly took them. "Are you ready, Princess?" Fenara looked longingly around the Reception Chamber, then cast one more glance out the window towards the Plaza. She slowly turned away, back to Effe-Tei.

"Yes."

"Let us be off, then." There was a sudden sensation of pain around Fenara's head, then she was hurtling through nothingness, clutching Effe-Tei's hands. Then, all at once, the sensation ended and they were standing in a dim room with a few shelves holding a set of decrepit books and a shabby bed in the corner. Before Effe-Tei could speak, the door swung open and a Dunmer woman with her white hair piled on top of her head came in, holding a scroll and a quill.

"Are you the one we're expecting?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at Fenara. "The maid from Mournhold?" Fenara was about to speak indignantly, but Effe-Tei swiftly cut her off.

"Yes, we are from Mournhold."

"Who are you?" the woman asked, squinting at him. She took in his Argonian form and her eyes flickered in disgust.

"My name is Effe-Tei, Sera, Mage of the Royal Court of King Hlaalu Helseth."

"Well, why are you here?" she asked, seeming unimpressed.

"I am responsible for transportation and inspection of travelers from the mainland to Vvardenfell, Sera, and have been since the boats were stopped because of the Blight."

"Very well then. You can be on your way."

"I am to stay with the Prin – with the maid until she is safely on her way."

"Fine," the woman said, rolling her eyes and spreading her scroll out on a table. "What's your name, maid?"

"Fenara Alma – just Fenara," she answered, catching herself with a look from Effe-Tei.

"And your profession?"

"Well…I was studying to be an alchemist," she said, not untruthfully. The woman probed a bit more, asking this and that about Fenara and being answered with occasional help from Effe-Tei. When she was done, she rolled up the scroll and looked expectantly at Effe-Tei.

"Would you excuse us for a moment, please? I will send Fenara along when we are finished," he added politely, and the woman grunted and left, swinging the door shut. Effe-Tei turned to her, pulling out two sheets of grubby paper. "These are directions to the home of a man called Caius Cosades. You are to find him and give him this package. They told me that someone at a place called 'South Wall' will know where he is." Fenara looked down at the directions written in Effe-Tei's familiar spidery hand, then at the garbled, sloppy letters of the package she was supposed to deliver. "It's in code," he told her, seeing her troubled look.

"Why?" Fenara asked, looking up, her face still puzzled.

"I don't know, Princess," Effe-Tei said with a slight sigh. "Although you can be sure I would tell you if I did." He sighed again. "I should go. Both of us should go." Fenara's eyes welled up again and Effe-Tei held open his arms. They hugged tightly, then Effe-Tei pulled away. "Have courage, Princess, and you will return to the City of Light someday." Effe-Tei turned once in a circle and was gone.

For a time, Fenara stood in the middle of the dark room, feeling more lost than she ever had before. Then she slowly opened the door to find herself on a deserted stairwell. She assumed she was on the second floor and went down to a broad reception room with three doors at the front. The Dunmer woman they'd spoken to was shouting at a sheepish-looking Breton, but she paused to thrust a small sack of gold into Fenara's hands before she left.

Outside, the air was chill and the skies were steel-gray. The manor opened into a square plaza that was ringed with dull-looking brown houses all built in a similar style – flat, square roofs, rounded windows set with green glass, rough stone that was cracked and chipping. A single tree was planted in a small circle of grass, but it looked stunted and unhealthy. Beyond two short towers that flanked the opening to the plaza, a set of stairs led down into a street that looked equally dreary. There were few people about, and those that were wore grim looks that appeared to be permanently set into their faces. In the distance, she heard a strange, alien cry, a long moan that echoed around the mountains surrounding the city.

Feeling awkward and unsure of where to go, Fenara decided to utilize a trick that her grandmother had taught her for when she was lost. She had never had to use it, having grown up in the seclusion of a palace she could navigate in her sleep, but she figured now was a better time than not at all. Picking a storefront a short walk away in the street below, Fenara began to walk purposefully as if she had lived in this town – in Balmora – all her life.

As Fenara started to descend the stairs into the street, she heard a raspy chuckle and turned at once to see a guard clad in bonemold armor leaning against a nearby wall, chortling to himself at the sight of her. She realized that she must look foolish walking in the fashion of a princess in a grimy town with a filthy dress, and her cheeks flared. Abandoning her grandmother's method, Fenara quickly asked the guard where she might find the South Wall.

"South Wall Cornerclub?" he asked, and she nodded, assuming that was what she was looking for. "Sure. Go straight down the stairs there and cross the river, then go all the way to the end of the street and through the last arch. You'll smell it before you see it." Puzzled at his last statement, she thanked him and started down the stairs again, ignoring him as he called after her, "And walk in with that fancy strut, lass, they'll give you a discount!"

Cheeks flaming, Fenara followed the street down to a narrow river that cut through the center of town and crossed a low stone bridge over it. The water looked icy as it lapped against the stone walls of the dam, and Fenara shivered, thinking longingly of the fur-trimmed cloak hanging in her quarters in the palace.

As Fenara started towards the end of the street, she suddenly understood what the guard had meant. The air here was sticky and sweet, so sweet that it tasted foul upon her tongue. It had an odd smell to it too, like a combination of honey wine and hard candy. Fenara found the cornerclub easily enough, stepped around a drunk man collapsed on the stoop, and went inside.

The cornerclub was dank and hazy the hallway she came into, with a single candle melted onto a barrel offering light. Fenara passed by the heavy-looking Nord woman in the corner that glared at her with hooded eyes, as well as the scrawny blonde Bosmer man that sat on a crate cleaning his fingernails with a rusty dagger. She was reluctant to descend the stairs into the bar, but was more reluctant to ask someone in the hallway for help.

The sugary smell in the main room of the club was overpowering. Fenara nearly choked on the foul fumes and her eyes watered from the smoke. Squinting, she made out the source of the haze, a group of four Imperial men at the other end of the bar that were sitting around a dented copper pipe with tubes protruding from its mouth that was releasing the pinkish smoke into the air. Looking away, Fenara noticed a Khajiiti woman that looked relatively normal, and she made her way over to her, trying to ignore the smell.

"Excuse me," Fenara said, and the woman looked at her with wide feline eyes. "Um…I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find a man called…um…Carus Cosades."

"This one means Caius, does she not?" Fenara took a step back, startled. The only Khajiit she had ever met before was her chambermaid, who had grown up in the palace and spoke with the eloquence of a trained servant. This woman, however, had a harsh hiss that lingered beneath all her words, which were strongly accented to the point of being difficult to understand.

"Oh…um…yes, Caius is his name. I'm sorry."

"That is no problem to Chirranirr," she said, her black lips stretching into a smile. "Caius Cosades is here often. Chirranirr knows why this one looks for him here. But Chirranirr does not know where the old sugar-tooth lives. This one should ask Bacola, this one should."

"B – Bacola?"

"Bacola Closcius, nice man with plenty of sugar. Lets us use the skooma all we want." She laughed, a deep, purring noise that sounded odd in her throat. "He may be upstairs." She laughed again and sat down, her eyes growing unfocused as she reached for a purple bottle on the table. Deciding she would have no more luck with this woman, Fenara went back up to the shadowy hallway and up the stairs again, where she found an Imperial man locking a door he had just stepped out of.

"Excuse me," Fenara said, and he looked up, slipping the key into his pocket. _At least he seems sober, _she thought to herself. "Could you please tell me where I can find Bacola Closcius?"

"That's me," the man said. "What can I help you with?" Fenara breathed a small sigh of relief.

"I'm looking for a man called Caius Cosades," she said. "I was told you knew where to find him."

"Sure," Closcius said good-naturedly. "Old Caius lives one street up from us. Go out the front door and turn right, then walk to the end of the road. He rents a little house just up there."

"Thank you," she said gratefully, and Fenara quickly went back downstairs and out onto the street. She breathed a sigh of relief at being out of the choking atmosphere of the cornerclub, then started up the street to where this Caius Cosades apparently lived.

She knocked twice on the door, pulling the package she had been told to deliver out of her bodice. When there was no answer after a few moments, she knocked again. Silence. Fenara knocked a third time and was preparing to leave when the door was suddenly flung open and a half-naked man with wildly bloodshot eyes was on the threshold, shouting.

"Damn it, Ralen, I told you –" he stopped, seeing Fenara. "What do you want?" he asked shortly. Feeling strongly that this man couldn't possibly work for the Emperor, Fenara squeaked an apology and started to leave. "I asked you what you wanted!" he roared after her, and his voice echoed on the empty street.

"I – I'm sorry," Fenara stammered, clutching the package. "I'm looking for C – Caius Cosades."

"Well I'm Caius Cosades," the man said sharply. "What do you want?"

"I – um – I have a package for you. I was told to deliver this." She held out the letter, and he yanked it out of her hands, broke the seal, and read quickly. When he finished, there was a long silence, then he looked up at her slowly, scrutinizing her face.

"Come in," he said gruffly, and he turned sharply into his house. Fenara followed and found herself in a dim room strewn with rubbish and sharing the same sugary smell as the South Wall Cornerclub. "Shut the door," Cosades said, and Fenara reluctantly shut out the light. "This package," Cosades said, limping over to the table and setting the paper down. "Says that you are to follow my orders. And that your name is –" he glanced at the letter again. "– Fenara. Are you ready to follow my orders, Fenara?" Taken aback, Fenara blinked.

"I –"

"Yes or no, and if the answer's no you're disobeying the Emperor and I can have you arrested."

"Then – then yes, I suppose." Fenara realized her hands were shaking and clasped them tightly.

"Good. Now I'm supposed to make you a novice in the Blades, and that means that you'll report to me."

"The Blades, sir?"

"We work for the Emperor. We're his eyes and ears. And by agreeing to follow my orders, you're agreeing to join the Blades. So welcome to the service, Novice Fenara." Fenara's head was spinning. This old man who lived in a dark house in a dingy city was a…spy? But Cosades was already speaking again. "…need a cover identity. Around here, a lot of people go by 'freelance adventurer.' Join up with one of the guilds and get so experience under you're belt. The Dunmer here will be able to see that you're an outlander from a mile away. Let's try to fix that."

"And what about your…um…orders?"

"Those are my orders, Novice," Cosades replied simply. "You're painfully new in Vvardenfell, and you could do with some training. I'll give you the names of some of the trainers around here you can use, and then I want you to get out and come back when you're more prepared for stuff that's going to be a lot more difficult than anything you've done before. Here." He limped over to a crooked lockbox on a shelf and counted out a few coins. "Here's two hundred drakes. Go get yourself a decent weapon. Or armor. Or something. Then come back, and I'll have orders for you." He found a spare bit of parchment on the ground and scribbled a few names on it, then handed that to her as well. "These are the Blades Trainers. I want you to visit each of them before you do anything else. Maybe they'll be able to break you in a bit." He didn't seem to have anything more to say, so Fenara moved gratefully towards the door. "Oh, and there's an empty apartment upstairs you can use until you find yourself some better lodgings. Just out the door and to the right. Should be unlocked."

"Um…thank you." With that, Fenara was back outside in the bleak, late afternoon light. She fingered the four fifty-drake pieces in her hands and glanced up. She mounted the stairs right beside Caius Cosades' door and found herself on a small landing beside a door, which opened easily into a tiny, one-room apartment. There was a bed in one corner beside a ladder that led up to a trapdoor on the ceiling, as well as a dresser and a table, but the rest of the room was bare. Fenara pulled off her shoes, which were more like bits of ragged cloth wrapped around her feet, and left them by the door, moving gratefully to the bed. She collapsed on top of it, only to be met with a thin mattress that she could feel the wooden bed slats through. Cringing, Fenara sat up and pulled the two letters out of her bodice, opening the one from her grandmother first. She took a moment to relish in the familiar handwriting that filled the page, then began to read.

_My sweet Fen,_

_I sorely wish that I will never have to send this letter. I hope with all my being that by the end of your trial, your arrogant father will have seen reason and will forget this matter, and you never have to read these words, but since it apparently is not so, I will be blunt._

_You should not have tried to touch the Kanet. We both know this, and I'm sure you know it now better than anyone. However, it was an unavoidable curiosity, and I partly blame myself for not taking the opportunity to study it carefully alongside you, for I could tell you had an interest in alchemical arts from the time you were young and would eventually be interested in its properties. But let us not dwell on the past – you know now that what you did was wrong, and that is that._

_I have told you before that your father is a powerful man and wishes he didn't have an unconditional love for you. He is, however, your father, and _does _love you, despite what you may think. In the days when you first came to the palace, he spent many nights awake in my chambers, speaking to me nervously. He was worried, poor man, about being a good father to you, about raising you properly, about you not having a mother figure in your life, about how you might be ridiculed and mocked for your improper heritage. I did my best to comfort my son, and for many years he truly did love you. You probably do not remember, but you would often come running in from the gardens to show him a particularly lovely Timsa-Come-By or a damaged butterfly, and the look on his face, to gaze upon his only heir, was filled with so much love it made my heart ache. So you see, he truly does love you, and I know it has pained him to send you away._

_He would not have done it, but his new advisors, as you know, are slimier than scribs, and are possibly among the foulest men I have ever met. Helseth is easy to manipulate, you see, and they know that you are an intelligent young woman. They fear that, once Helseth is gone, you will be wise enough to be rid of the corruptors, which of course you would be, and this worries them. They were the ones that convinced your father that you needed to be gone in any way possible. They were the ones that pushed him into taking the first opportunity he could to exile you from Mournhold. I, unfortunately, do not have much power here anymore, as the advisors have convinced my son that I am a senile old woman. If I could have, you know I would have tried to save you. And dear Fen, I tried so hard to convince your father to rethink his decision. So incredibly hard, Fen. _

_But you are strong, and I know you will survive. You must do as the Emperor's men command you, for I have a strong feeling that they will be your ticket back to Mournhold. Follow your orders and live diligently, and I know, dearest Fen, that you will return to me someday, and Helseth will see the errors of his ways. Buy as many books as you can and study as often as you can. Study alchemy intensively, collect new ingredients, write reports, become skilled. Perhaps when this happens, you will be able to convince Helseth to rid himself of those foul advisors and see reason. I have confidence that you will change the way things in Mournhold are run, dearest Fen._

_And now to the specifics. My friend Ranis Athrys is the head of the Mages' Guild in Balmora, the town where Effe-Tei took you. She owes me a favor, and I told her I had a close friend coming to Balmora that needed help. She does not know of your royal heritage, and nor should she. Or anyone else, for that matter. I advise you not go by Fenara while you are in Vvardenfell, for it is an odd name and there are those few that know of your existence that may make the connection. But, in any matter, tell Ranis that you are the friend Barenziah sent and you need help. I've asked her to get you into the Mages' Guild, where you can expand upon your alchemy studies, and to be sure that you are safe and have a place to stay. _

_Know this, Fen. If anyone were to discover who you are, then the consequences could be great. You must not reveal your identity to anyone, or it could mean your death by those who are against your father's rule, and, although you may not believe it, that would hurt him more than he could bear._

_I love you more than I could possibly write on this page. Be strong and pure of heart, Fen, and you will return to the City of Light and Magic. I know you will._

_Much love,_

_Grandmother_

Fenara reread the letter until she had the words memorized, then she held the parchment close and breathed in the scent of dried ink, trying to catch a hint of her grandmother's comforting smell, a mix of roses and binding glue. She thought she caught a trace of it, once, but then it was gone again, and it was just a bit of parchment. Fenara picked up the envelope to replace the letter and felt something heavy in it. She peered inside and saw a small coil of silver chain in the corner. She pulled the chain out and found it was the chain of the locket her grandmother had given her for her fourteenth birthday – a small silver circle at the end, inlaid with one round, pale blue stone. Fen pressed the catch and the door flipped open, revealing the left side with the tiny ticking clock and the right with a minute drawing of Fenara and her grandmother, sketched with smooth, yet detailed lines. Fenara closed the locket slowly and slipped it over her neck, tucking it under her robe and feeling its comforting tick against her heart.

Carefully folding the letter and slipping it back into her bodice, she turned to the one that was stamped with Helseth's seal. Her fingers shaking, Fenara broke the wax and unfolded the paper. Helseth's letter was much shorter.

_Dearest Fenara,_

_It is with great sorrow that I write this letter. It is to my eternal regret that I turned you away when we first met, despite your very strong resemblance to your mother. I confess that I loved her, but she was not my wife, and we face the highest obligations to propriety in our position._

_Nonetheless, I soon relented. I could not bear that, after she died, you would be raised as a commoner instead of a royal heir. So, I took you in and raised you as my own. I fear I may have rather spoiled you, so perhaps there is some explanation for your extraordinary betrayal. I will not, however, accept any blame for this. It was your choice to steal from your father and king, and that is treason._

_I gave you so much, Fenara. And yet you defied me._

_You are a child of kings, an heir of Morrowind, and you will demean yourself to such petty crimes! Given the sign you were born under, perhaps it was to be expected, but you still have a choice in these things, and you chose ill, Fenara._

_Though it breaks my heart to say it, you are no child of mine. No more shall you bask in this privilege. No more shall my subjects proclaim you my heir. You are henceforth stripped of your title, Princess Almalexia, and exiled from the Royal Court. Remember this, Fenara. We are what we make ourselves, and you, former princess, are nothing._

_I have shielded you from prying eyes all these years, and no portrait has been made. Therefore, there are few who will recognize you. You will find yourself unknown, and since you have spent so many years in such luxury, hard work will come a shock to you. And such shall it! Perhaps, and it is my deepest hope, that removed from Royal privilege you may find within yourself some measure of decency, and through hard work redeem yourself._

_In so vain an anticipation, I have spoken with the Emperor. On his command, you are to go to a man called Caius Cosades on Vvardenfell, who will instruct you in your service to the Empire._

_Helseth, King of Morrowind_

Fenara stared at the last word until the letters blurred before her eyes. She set the letter aside and looked down at her soft, uncallused hands.


	3. Chapter 3

Fenara awoke with a start, still on her narrow bed with the letter from her father lying beside her. Feeling frustratingly disoriented, she shut the letter in the single book that was sitting on a shelf over her bed and stood up, stumbling over to the cabinets. She yanked one open and found a stale loaf of bread, which she didn't even bother with. The rest of the cabinets were dusty and bare, so Fenara resigned to having to go out to get food. She found a tattered robe in the closet, which she donned in favor of the ragged dress she had been sporting, and slipped on a pair of thick guar hide shoes that hid in a dark corner of the closet. She found an old wooden comb in a drawer and untangled most of the snarls from her hair, then tied it back in a braid out of her face and went outside, feeling significantly refreshed.

Fenara was surprised to see that it was evening. She had assumed it was morning, and wondered vaguely if she had slept all through her second day in Balmora. Making sure she had her money and the list of Blades Trainers from Cosades, she started off down the stairs. Her determination broke, however, when she saw the decrepit street again, this time with a group of rats fighting over something by the water barrel. The hopelessness of her situation struck her again, and she walked across the river with her eyes on the ground before her.

Fenara had dinner at an inn called the Eight Plates, which was much cleaner and more cheerful than the South Wall Cornerclub. When she had finished, she took the list out of the pocket of her robe and smoothed it out on the table. There were three trainers in Balmora – Nine-Toes, Rithleen, and Tyermallin. She crossed the river again and followed the directions to the small house on the riverfront belonging to Nine-Toes.

An Argonian opened the door and welcomed her inside warmly, as if he knew she was coming. His home was shabby and small, but well-kept, Fenara noted. He brought two cups of tea to the small round table and sat across from her, immediately beginning to speak.

"It is good to meet you, Novice Fenara." It struck her then that her grandmother had advised her against going by her real name.

"It's Fen, actually," she said quickly, unable to think of anything else off the top of her head. "Just Fen."

"I apologize then, Novice Fen," Nine-Toes said, dipping his head in acknowledgment. "Caius must have written your name wrong."

"Um…yes, he must have." Fenara took a sip of her tea. It was bitter tasting, quite different from the peppermint flavor she was usually served.

"Caius did write ahead to me just a few hours ago and told me you would be visiting. He asked that I share a bit of advice with you. I am a hunter by trade, and I am always pleased to give any kind of assistance needed to a fellow Blade.

"We Blades Trainers can offer you core training, but not much else. More advanced training is expensive. The more experienced you are, the harder it is to train you, you see." Nine-Toes stood up suddenly and went to a small chest on a shelf. He unlocked it and pulled out four small cloth bags. At once, Fenara tasted the sickly sweet smell that had stagnated around the South Wall Cornerclub emanating from the bags. Nine-Toes saw her look of disgust and chuckled. "Moon sugar," he said, holding up the bags as he sat down again. "It's an illegal narcotic in Vvardenfell, used to make skooma. You've encountered it already?"

"Yes," Fenara said, eyeing the bags warily. "At the South Wall Cornerclub."

"Ah, yes," Nine-Toes said knowingly, shaking his head slightly. "Truthfully, that establishment is more of a skooma den than a club. Avoid it if you can. But moon sugar, most alchemists won't buy. Khajiit will, though. It's grown from sugar cane in Elsweyr, and native Khajiit grow up practically suckling it from their mother's teats. It will sell for a lot with Khajiiti merchants. You can sell these to earn yourself a little extra gold." Nine-Toes pushed the little sacks across the table and Fenara reluctantly pocketed them.

"Thank you."

"Anything, anything. Now then. I am a hunter. I range across the Ashlands and wastes, hunting for meat and hides. I know the native creatures of Vvardenfell, and know to avoid the diseased creatures and the blighted creatures, for they are foul and worthless – but deadly to the careless hunter. I know the Ashlands and the Grazelands, Azura's Coast and Molag Amur and can tell you of these places." Fenara had heard of a few of these regions in her tutoring, but had never left the walls of Mournhold, a fact that she decided to keep to herself. "Have you met Gudling the Rascal in your travels? Lately he's taken up residence at St. Veloth's Hostel in Molag Mar. If you're interested in the hunter's craft, he's worth talking to."

"I'm afraid I haven't been in Vvardenfell for more than a fortnight," Fenara said.

"Then you should speak with Elone. She is another of the Blades Trainers. She is a scout, and is very talented. She is set up in Seyda Neen, not far from here. You can take the silt strider or walk."

"The silt strider?"

"They are giant beetles that are used for transportation. Their backs are hollowed out to ride in. I am surprised you have not seen it yet." He chuckled. "They are hard to miss." Nine-Toes then withdrew a map of Vvardenfell and a large sheet of blank parchment. He began to copy Vvardenfell onto the blank parchment, putting most detail into the southwest corner of the map, which he seemed to know well. When he was finished, there were still large portions of empty space across the rest of the map. "You should speak to the other Blades Trainers," Nine-Toes said as he folded up the new map for Fenara. "They may know more of the geography in the rest of Vvardenfell than I. But you should also log parts of the map yourself. Copying down details in your own hand is the best way to familiarize yourself with a new place."

"Thank you," Fenara said gratefully, taking the map and putting it away. "I should be leaving soon, anyway."

"It was very pleasant to meet you," Nine-Toes said, picking up the tea cups and not seeming to notice that Fenara's cold tea had hardly been drunk. "I understand the hour is growing late, but come see me another time if you would like training."

"Thank you," Fenara said again, and he showed her to the door. Glancing at her instructions again, Fenara saw the next place she ought to go was Tyermallin's house, which was just down the road.

Tyermallin was an Altmer, tall and tired-looking, and did not seem nearly as interested in Fenara's affairs as Nine-Toes had been. He was a healer, and didn't seem terribly concerned with what was going on in the Blades. Tyermallin didn't talk much, but dug around in a crate and found a battered alembic that he offered for her to take. Fenara left his home struggling with the cumbersome alembic under her arm, and left it on Rithleen's doorstep to pick up on her way out when she left.

Rithleen, an athletic-looking Redguard woman, was far more hospitable than Tyermallin had been, and offered Fenara a brandy when she entered. Fenara had never been allowed to drink anything more than very mild wine, and declined the brandy, feeling nervous at just looking at the bottle.

"I'm a warrior," Rithleen said, leaning back and letting her boots rest heavily on the table. Fenara clenched her hands in her lap, feeling uncomfortable. "Basically, I kill things. If you're looking to be a mercenary or the like, I'd sign on with the Fighter's Guild. They aren't picky, and they won't send up near Ghostfence."

"Ghostfence?" Fenara repeated, forgetting her princess' demeanor and leaning forward. Something about the word struck her, gave her an odd feeling.

"Haven't heard of it?" Fenara shook her head. "Well there're all sorts of stories behind it, but all you really need to know is that it's a huge barrier blocking Red Mountain from the rest of the island. Which, trust me, is a very, very good thing."

"Why?" Fenara asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

"You really are new, here, aren't you?" Rithleen said, sounding amused. "Red Mountain generates all sorts of ash storms that carry the Blight, and the Blight can give you corprus. It's a disease that'll turn men into lumps of living flesh that go mad inside their own heads and limp around trying to kill anything that moves."

"Oh," Fenara said, and something caught in her throat. She cleared it self-consciously as Rithleen went on. "If you _do _end up having to go up by Ghostfence, just make sure to take some Cure Disease potions with you. If you're careful, the Blight can be stopped before it really takes effect. Oh, and before you leave…" Rithleen stood up, the front legs of her chair falling heavily on the flagstone floor, and went to a large chest on the ground. She pulled out a dented steel helmet and matching cuirass. "These won't do you much good, but you can always sell them for a little extra coin. I was planning on taking them over to the smithy to have them melted down anyway."

"Thank you," Fenara said gratefully, taking the heavy armor into her arms and wondering vaguely how she was going to get everything back to her tiny apartment.

When she got outside, however, the alembic was gone, clearly carried off by someone who had passed in the time Fenara had been in Rithleen's.

"Serves me right, I suppose," Fenara muttered to herself, disgruntled, as she heaved the armor into her arms and started to struggle back to the apartment. It had grown dark, and thunder boomed through the clouds. Fenara decided that she could wait to travel to the other trainers until morning, and just made it inside as the rain started to fall. She dumped the dented armor in a heap on the floor and peeled off her shoes and robe, falling back on the bed. It was still as narrow and uncomfortable as ever, and Fenara pulled out her braid and curled up on the lumpy pillow, trying to make herself as small as possible as rain hammered on the roof overhead.


	4. Chapter 4

She awoke early the next morning and started on her way before the sun was up. Thunder still echoed in the clouds and puddles formed where there were missing cobblestones in the road, but the rain had stopped for the time being. She didn't like the thought of getting caught in a downpour, and decided to take the silt strider to Ald'ruhn and Seyda Neen, as Nine-Toes had suggested.

The silt strider was, indeed, hard to miss. It was a monstrous creature, standing on six spindly legs that were higher than the buildings around it and rocking slowly back and forth. It let of a low moan as Fenara climbed the stairs to the port, and she realized that this was the creature that she had heard when she first came to Balmora.

She paid for passage to Ald'ruhn first and sat down in the narrow hollow of the creature's shell, settling herself as best she could while the driver spurred the beetle onwards and it began to walk, lurching uncomfortably from side to side. By the time they reached Ald'ruhn an hour later, Fenara was sick to her stomach and her head was spinning. She pulled herself out of the shell and vomited over the edge of the silt strider platform, then muttered a shaky apology to the driver and stumbled down the path and into the road.

It was only once Fenara's feet touched solid ground that she paused to look around. She realized at once that Ald'ruhn was part of the Ashlands, a region Nine-Toes had described to her. The ground was rock strewn with sand and smooth, round-topped mountains rose around the city walls. The buildings were here all made of polished sandstone with curved roofs that made them look like crouching animals. At the front of the city, an enormous structure stood, with tall, solid-looking walls and a low roof that expanded outward, like the top of a mushroom.

Fenara quickly found the home of the trainer she was looking for, a Bosmer Nightblade named Gildan. Gildan was cheerful and pleasant, and suggested Fenara almost at once to someone named Wayn at the Balmora Fighter's Guild.

As they talked, drinking tea at her small square table, a sudden howling became audible from outside, and Gildan quickly excused herself and came back inside a moment later carrying her laundry that had been drying outside. She looked distinctly dusty, and before she shut the door Fenara caught a glimpse of a fiercely howling wind outside that seemed to be carrying grains of sand in its drafts.

"Ash storm," Gildan said to Fenara's inquiring look. She shook the sand out of her clothes and left them on top of the dresser. "They've been getting worse lately."

"Do people get the Blight here often?" Fenara asked, remembering what Rithleen had told her about ash storms carrying Blight.

"Oh, sometimes," Gildan answered. "Most of us have developed a kind of immunity to it by now, living in Ald'ruhn for so long. And, to be honest, there aren't many people here who don't carry a few Cure Disease potions with them. I've seen children that have vials of it strung on twine hanging 'round their necks. We're as wary as everyone else, just more used to it by now."

"Why don't people move?" Fenara asked. Gildan smiled.

"Ald'ruhn has been around longer than these ash storms, and I'll be damned if something like that could throw us out. A bit of ash isn't going to get a whole town of stubborn Redoran to budge one bit."

"Redoran?"

"Ald'ruhn is a Redoran town. It's one of the three Great Houses that takes up residence in Vvardenfell. Hlaalu is the other, and they operate out of Balmora, and Telvanni is based in Sadrith Mora, way out on the east coast by the Sea of Ghosts. The Redoran are warriors, and it'd be a hard job to get them to move."

"And the other houses?"

"Let's see…Hlaalu are sneaking thieves, the lot of them. Slimy politicians, all the way through. Telvanni's much the same, only they're all uppity wizards that hate everyone else. I personally don't care for any of them. I don't belong to any Great House, but I suppose I lean towards the Redoran politics-wise."

"Another thing," Fenara said, thinking of the enormous structure she had seen. "What's the giant building at the front of the town?"

"Oh, that's Ald Skar," Gildan said. "It was the shell of a giant crab, and when it died the rest of it decomposed and some rich landowners came in and build manors inside of it."

"People _live _in that thing?" Fenara said, incredulous.

"Oh yes. All the Redoran councilors live in Ald Skar. Their manors are ridiculous. I've been in one once. Bigger than all of the outside part of Ald'ruhn, it was."

When the clock on Gildan's hearth rang nine times, Fenara quickly stood up.

"I should be going," she said. "Thank you for your help."

"Any time," Gildan replied cheerfully, going to open the door for her. The ash storm was still raging fiercely outside. "Oh, I'm not going to send you out in that with nothing to cover your face. Getting that in your mouth is nasty." Gildan went to her dresser and pulled out a well-worn headscarf of faded red, embroidered in purple. "Here."

"Thank you," Fenara said gratefully, wrapping it around her head and mouth, leaving her eyes visible. "I'll return it to you next time I'm in Ald'ruhn."

"Keep it," Gildan said, waving her away. "I've got plenty."

At some point, Gildan had mentioned guild guides at the Mages Guild halls that could offer teleportation services to any of the other guildhalls in Vvardenfell. Feeling that this method of travel would be far less sickening than using a silt strider, Fenara found the local guildhall and paid to be transported to Caldera.

Surane Leoriane was the trainer Fenara was directed to in Caldera. It was a small, Imperial-style town, and Fenara found the house without trouble. She took off Gildan's headscarf before she entered and shook the ash out of the scarf and out of her hair.

Surane Leoriane was a Breton mage, which was apparently the class Fenara had been registered under. She offered Fenara flaky-looking saltrice cakes, which were flavorless and bland, but which Fenara ate without complaint as Surane explained the concept of enchanted items to her.

"Do you like living here?" Fenara asked during a lull in the conversation.

"It's all right," Surane said disconcertedly, standing up from the table and going to get the tea kettle, which had just started to whistle. "The town itself is nice, but the people are insufferable sometimes. Lots of rich Imperials live here, because this town was rich when it was chartered for its ebony mines and it's just bound to get richer."

"There are ebony mines here?"

"Oh, yes. The Caldera Mining Company is what pours gold into this place. Of course, everyone on the Company's board is corrupt and greedy, and everyone knows it, but is anyone going to do anything about it? Of course not, because this is an Imperial town, and whatever the Imperials do has to be right." They finished their tea, which had not tasted nearly as bitter on Fenara's tongue as Nine-Toes' had, and Surane directed her to Llaros Uvayn at the local governor's mansion to talk to about enchanting. "Caius told you to talk to Sjorvar too, didn't he?" Fenara nodded. "He owns a small guar ranch just north of Caldera. It should only take you about fifteen minutes to walk there."

"Thank you," Fenara said, and she excused herself. It was, indeed, a short walk until she found the guar ranch, where Sjorvar Horse-Mouth was crouched next to a guar, examining its paw. Fenara stayed back at first, wary of the enormous creatures. She had only ever seen them in books and from the palace windows, and up close their sloping jaws and round, beady eyes made her nervous.

"Can I help you, lass?" Sjorvar said, noticing her and standing up, setting the guar's paw down.

"I'm Fenar – Fen. I was sent by Caius."

"Ah, yes, old Cosades told me you were coming." He pulled a dark, heavy-looking leaf from his pocket and held it in front of the guar, who sniffed it eagerly then took it in its teeth and lumbered away. "I was just checking Lumpy's pads. He was limping yesterday, but seems fine now." Sjorvar patted the guar fondly on the nose, then invited Fenara to sit with him on a long bench outside his cottage.

"What do you train?" Fenara asked him.

"Blunt weapons," he said, picking up a mug of beer and two goblets. Fenara quickly shook her head and he shrugged and set one down, filling the other. "And axes. I'm not much into that wishy-washy magic stuff. But my friend Galbedir is. She's at the Balmora Mages' Guild. I'd have a chat with her at some point if I were you. Good to have some scrolls in your pack whenever you travel." He took a long drink of beer and leaned on his knees, gazing fondly at the guar that grazed around them. "Ever herd guar?" Fenara shook her head. "It's the thing to do when you retire, I'll tell you. I love these animals. Not much care to it, either, just clean up their dung and give them some Hackle-Lo leaf every now and then, and they're fine on their own."

"Er…yes," Fenara said, unsure of how to respond. Sjorvar didn't seem to have much else to say, but Fenara wasn't sure how to excuse herself without being rude. At some point, though, Sjorvar remarked at the late hour of the afternoon and, relieved, Fenara thanked him and walked back to Caldera. She teleported to Balmora and regretfully discovered that there was no Mages' Guild in Seyda Neen, meaning she would have to walk or take the awful, lurching silt strider again.

Opting to walk, Fenara set off from Balmora in the direction Caius' instructions pointed her in. As the sun began to set, Fenara realized that the landscape around her was changing, and soon the mushrooms and hanging vines around her were replaced by flowers bursting with color and trees of lush, deep green. It couldn't begin to compare with the flora of Mournhold, of course, but it was a nice change from the dreary mood of Balmora.

Soon, though, Fenara reached Seyda Neen, which settled back into swampland. The village was small, a little cluster of dilapidated shacks and thatched-roof cottages tucked into a peninsula in the swamp. The Tradehouse where Elone was supposed to be was the only real place of interest, with a weathered wooden sign hanging in front, and Fenara went inside and found Elone easily.

She was a Redguard woman standing behind the bar, serving drinks to people and cheerfully chatting and laughing with them. Fenara watched her jealously for a moment. She had always wished that she could be talented with people, but her father had kept her so sheltered that she had never really had an opportunity to develop a talent with talking to others.

When Elone had a break, Fenara introduced herself, and the Redguard smiled warmly and offered her a free flin. Declining the drink politely, Fenara sat down at a bar stool as Elone served another person at the bar, then came back to talk.

"I don't train much, honestly," Elone said. "But you can take this. I haven't had much of a chance to travel, so this guide will probably be more help to you than I will." Elone reached under the counter and handed Fenara a scroll entitled _Guide to Vvardenfell. _

"Thank you," Fenara said, rolling up the scroll and tucking it away. Elone had to serve other customers, so Fenara thanked her for her time and left the Tradehouse. There didn't seem to be much else in Seyda Neen, so Fenara started the walk back to Balmora.


	5. Chapter 5

For a while after she woke, Fenara lay in her narrow bed, wondering what was left for her to do. She had met with all of the Blades Trainers, but Cosades had told her to sign on with one of the local guilds. And her grandmother had told the head of the Mages' Guild in Balmora to expect a friend. After a time, Fenara pulled herself out of bed, combed back her hair, and went outside to a chilly, but surprisingly clear morning. She found the Mages' Guildhall in a crowded street lined with storefronts and crates, which she navigated carefully to reach the right building. It had an old wooden sign in front of it, creaking slightly in the breeze, and its doorway was lit with a blue lantern.

Inside, Fenara found herself in an empty hallway, and she reveled in the warmth of being indoors for a moment before she went around the corner.

"Ranis? Is that you?" A high pitched voice, clearly Bosmer, called down from the stairs behind Fenara. She turned to see a petite woman with feathery blonde hair piled on top of her head and an extravagantly embroidered gold robe looking down at her from the landing, holding a large tray of soulgems.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, setting the tray on the ground and flouncing brightly down the stairs. "You look like Ranis from the back. I'm Galbedir." She stuck out her hand, and Fenara took it reluctantly. Galbedir squinted at her. "You know, I don't think I've seen you before. And I've lived in Balmora all my life."

"I'm new," Fenara said quickly. "I just arrived in Vvardenfell a few days ago. And I was looking to join your guild," she added.

"Oh, you'll be wanting to speak to Ranis too then!" Galbedir said brightly. "She should be around here somewhere – ah! Good morning Ranis!" A tall, elegant-looking Dunmer woman had just come up from the stairs leading down from where Galbedir and Fenara stood. She had high cheekbones and narrow eyes that surveyed Fenara with an appraising look. Her hair was dark with an odd purplish tint and was wound around her head in braids.

"What is it, Galbedir?" she asked, turning her gaze back to the Bosmer.

"Oh, I can talk to you any old time," Galbedir said cheerily. "You can talk to – what was your name again?"

"Thank you Galbedir," Ranis said swiftly, and the Bosmer gave Fenara a cheerful smile and went back up the stairs, humming to herself. Ranis turned her attention to Fenara, who wanted to cripple under her firm gaze. "May I help you?"

"Um – yes – I – well my grandmoth – my friend Barenziah, she said she sent you a letter about me."

"Oh, so you're Barenziah's stead?" Fenara found it hard to imagine her grandmother being friends with this woman. "Yes, yes, I know about you. I don't really have an open space in the guild here at the moment, but I owe Barenziah a favor. Come this way." Ranis went down the hallway towards the entrance and found a few sheets of blank parchment in a chest. "What did you say your name was?"

"Fen," she said nervously, and Ranis wrote the name down. Somehow, seeing her grandmother's pet name for her written down on an official document made her feel ill, as if she were sealing her fate and agreeing to be in Vvardenfell for the rest of her life.

"Now," Ranis said a quarter of an hour later. She rolled up the documents, which Fenara had all reluctantly signed, and put them away. "You are Associate Fen of the Mages' Guild. I don't have any jobs for you. You'll have to talk to Ajiira, downstairs. But see me if you want an advancement." Her tone was dismissive, so Fenara took this as her cue to leave and thanked her. Ranis nodded coldly and went back to her work, and Fenara went down the stairs she had seen Ranis walk up earlier. She found herself in a low hallway lit by cool blue lanterns, and she followed it to the end, where it opened out suddenly into a tall-ceilinged, blue-lit room.

The hall was sectioned off by creamy-looking dividers, and Fenara didn't know where to look first. There were endless shelves of books, tables straining under the weight of flasks and corked bottles of potions, a round garden completely filled with glowing plants, even a tall tree whose branches scraped the ceiling. Mages in finely decorated robes were moving back and forth across the hall, examining shelves, weighing potions, talking with one another. The air in the room was alive, prickling with the energy of magic.

"Excuse me," Fenara said, stopping a tall Altmer woman who was crossing the room with a armful of scrolls. "Could you please tell me where to find Ajiira?"

"Back in the alchemy room, dear," the woman said, nodding her head to a small arched doorway Fenara hadn't even noticed.

"Thank you," she said, and went back through the arch. This room was much smaller, and held only a Bosmer woman sitting idly by a teleportation platform and a Khajiit bent over a sifter at a high table in the corner. "Um…excuse me," Fenara said, aware that the guild guide was looking at her. "Excuse me," she said a little louder. The Khajiit looked up from her sifter. "Are you Ajiira?"

"Yes," she hissed, looking affronted. Fenara found she was still taken aback by the strong accent. "What does this one want?"

"Um…Ranis Athrys told me to see you. For guild jobs."

"Ranis admitted this one?" Ajiira said, and shook her head. "The Balmora guildhall is already fuller than a kitten's stomach after a meal, now Ranis is adding more associates. More and more, every day!"

"Oh, shut up, Ajiira, you're not even a journeyman yet," the guild guide said with a yawn. Ajiira shot her a look and turned back to Fenara.

"What is this one's name?"

"Fen."

"Fen then. Ajiira needs local mushrooms for her journeyman's report. Ajiira needs violet corporinus, bungler's bane, luminous russula, and hypha facia. All of these mushrooms grow in the Bitter Coast, which Fen can go to by leaving Balmora past the silt strider and following the ridge until she can cross into the swamps."

"Um…okay. Thank you." As Fen was turning to leave, she suddenly remembered something in her pocket. "Oh! Here, I – um…will you buy these?" she asked, taking the small cloth sacks of moon sugar out of her robe. Ajiira's feline eyes brightened.

"Certainly!" she said, her tone suddenly turning warm. She snatched the moon sugar out of Fenara's hands and counted out a few drakes for her. "Ajiira will give one hundred septims for it." Fenara had a nagging suspicion that the sugar was worth much more than one hundred septims, but she accepted the coins without question and went on her way.

Outside, the sky had darkened slightly, and clouds were starting to gather. Hoping to get in and out of the swamp before the weather changed, Fenara walked quickly past the silt strider and along the Odai River, following the path as thunder started to sound. She saw a campfire in the distance, and hoped to herself that its owners would lend her an oiled cloak to keep the rain off her back. When she approached it, she found two men, a Bosmer and a Redguard, sitting on benches drinking beer.

"What do you want?" the Redguard said sharply, turning to her. He was half-blind and had one milky eye with a deep scar running along it.

"Shut up, Dinok, she's a lady," the Bosmer said, and he smacked his partner over the back of the head. "Sorry about 'im," he said to Fen. "Been in a rotten mood ever since that Blighted kwama worker in Gnisis blinded him." The Bosmer extended a hand, and Fenara shook it. "I'm Findulain, and this is Dinok. We're egg miners." He gestured behind them, where Fenara noticed a wooden door built into the rock. The rain started suddenly, and although the campfire was protected by the leaves of the tree overhead, Fenara dreaded the thought of digging through swamps for mushrooms in the rain. "Stay 'ere for a bit if you like," Findulain said, seeing her expression. "No point in walkin' in the rain. Soaks ye to yer bones so that ye don't dry until Hearthfire. What did ye say yer name was?"

"Fen," she said gratefully, accepting the battered goblet Findulain passed her and sitting on the bench across from them. "Er…this isn't beer, is it?" Findulain laughed.

"I wish. They won't let us have alcohol in the egg mines. Just comberry juice." Relieved, Fenara took a sip and found that the comberry juice was oddly familiar tasting, though she was sure she'd never had it before.

"Can you tell me about the egg mine?" she asked, glancing at the door of the mine again. Dinok snorted.

"Ain't nothing to know about it," he said disdainfully. "We mine eggs, that's all."

"You new in Vvardenfell?" Findulain asked kindly, and she nodded. "Well, when ye say yer a miner around here, yer usually an egg miner. Sure, up in rich places like Caldera they mine things like ebony and glass and diamond, but the real bulk of Morrowind's money is from us." He jabbed his thumb proudly in his chest and Dinok rolled his eyes. "The Kwama foragers and warriors won't attack us, since they're used to our smell. But they attack intruders. And ye smell like an intruder."

"I'm not planning on going into a mine any time soon," Fenara said with a smile.

"Probably better that way," Findulain replied brightly. "Easier to mine the eggs without people goin' every which way."

"So kwama eggs come from mines?" Fenara asked. She had eaten kwama eggs all her life, but never though to wonder where they came from.

"Sure. So does scrib jerky and jelly and kwama cuttle. The queen of the mine lays the eggs, and the workers take care of 'em. We harvest them." There was a sudden absence of sound and Fenara realized the rain had stopped.

"Thank you very much," she said, handing the empty goblet back to Findulain. "It was pleasant meeting both of you." Dinok snorted and stood up.

"We'd best get back to work, Findulain, or the overseer will have our heads."

"Nice to meet ye, Fen," Findulain said, and they put away the goblets as Fenara carried on her way. She found a low spot in the ridge fairly easily, and she struggled slightly over the rocks, but managed to get down into the Bitter Coast area fairly easily. The ground was spongy and a putrid smell hung in the air, and Fenara advanced confidently, noting the descriptions of the mushrooms Ajiira had given her in her head.

She noticed what had to be the violet corporinus right away, a tall-stalked mushroom growing out of the middle of a pool of sludge. Fenara grimaced at the smell the sludge was letting off, but gingerly raised the hem of her robes and stepped in anyway. Her foot sank deeper than she expected, and as she waded out towards the mushroom, she soon found herself up to her waist in brown and green slime.

Fenara gripped the mushroom under its head and tried to pull it up, but its roots held fast. She put both hands on the stalk this time and pulled harder, struggling to rip the mushroom out. There was a sudden, unexpected boom of thunder and rain started to pour again, soaking straight through Fenara's robe. She gave a frustrated huff and pulled as hard as she could. The mushroom came free suddenly, and Fen toppled backwards into the pool of sludge. She gasped and dragged herself out, dripping in slime and soaking wet, but clutching the long-rooted mushroom in one hand. Fenara was tempted to smash the mushroom under her boot for the trouble it had given her, but she continued on her way, looking for the rest of the mushrooms. As she passed by a cluster of rocks, she noticed three violet corporinus mushrooms growing out of the solid ground there, and swore.


	6. Chapter 6

The days grew colder, and they started to blend into a monotony of doing errands for Ajiira. After the mushrooms, the Khajiit sent Fenara to gather flowers, soul gems, and, once, two reports she had written that Galbedir had apparently stolen.

"Galbedir is just jealous that Ajiira is going to be a journeyman before her," Ajiira hissed when she sent Fenara to find the reports.

"Oh, those two have always quarreled," one of the mages said with a roll of her eyes when Fenara asked about it. "Ranis ought to put a stop to it. It's petty and distracting." It had almost been two weeks since Fenara had come to Balmora when Ajiira finally ran out of chores for her to do.

"Fen could talk to Ranis for jobs," Ajiira said, taking the ceramic bowl she had sent Fenara to buy. "But Ajiira does not like Ranis much. Fen should visit Ajiira's friend Edwinna in Ald'ruhn."

"Edwinna?"

"She will have better jobs for Fen to do, and she is much smarter than Ranis. A good guild leader. If Ajiira did not have to take care of her sickly old aunt in Balmora, she would move there." A thought struck Fenara suddenly.

"Ajiira, do you know where I can buy a set of alchemy equipment? I've been looking for one for ages and haven't been able to find anything."

"Folms Mirel in the guildhall in Caldera might have an alchemy set," Ajiira said thoughtfully. "Fen should ask there. Alchemy sets are good, aren't they?"

"Yes," Fenara said a little guiltily. She had studied alchemy every day in Mournhold, and being away from her finely crafted set of apparatuses made her feel like she was neglecting a very important task. "Thank you, Ajiira." As Fenara was leaving the hall, she passed Ranis, who stopped her.

"You've been doing jobs for Ajiira, haven't you?" Fenara nodded. "It's high time you earn an advancement, then. I grant you the title of Apprentice. On your way." Startled at this sudden promotion, Fenara thanked her and left the guildhall, stopping to buy food at the outfitter's then going back to her lonely little apartment on the end of town. It was late, and Fenara's eyes itched with exhaustion. She pulled off her new guar hide shoes (she had had to replace both them and the robe after the incident in the Bitter Coast) and stretched out on the thin mattress. It felt like years since she had slept in the enormous canopy bed heaped with silk cushions in the palace in Mournhold. She closed her eyes, thinking longingly of sleeping in the palace, and soon she was asleep.

_They have taken you from the City of Light – north. To Vvardenfell. _Fenara felt herself moving through the Ashlands, red dust flying all around her, her vision strangely blurred. _Fear not, for I am watchful. _The voice that echoed around her was low and distorted, a woman speaking. Spiky letters she could not read appeared around her, spelling out words she could not understand. _You have been chosen._

Her eyes opened. She was still on the tiny bed in the one-room apartment in Balmora. Rubbing her eyes, Fenara sat up and glanced around the room. Weak gray light drained in from the green glass window, and she pulled herself out of bed and stared out at it, the voice from her dream cycling around her mind. _Probably nothing, _she thought to herself, and she got dressed and braided her hair. Slowly, Fenara packed up the few books and potions she had collected and left the apartment, leaving the key in the lock. Perhaps she would be able to find a more comfortable place to sleep in Ald'ruhn.

She took the guild guide to Caldera, where she quickly found Folms Mirel, an elderly Dunmer man.

"I haven't got any alchemy equipment, I'm afraid," he told her. "I'm rather focused on finding the rest of these indices at the moment."

"What do you mean?" Fenara asked, genuinely curious. Folms showed her a small black rock, about the size of a finger.

"This is a propylon index. Ever seen a Dunmer ruin?" Fenara shook her head. "In the old days, before the Imperials settled in Morrowind, the Dunmer had strongholds set up that they operated out of to fight the Empire. The Imperial troops were always at a loss at how the Dunmer forces managed to move around the island so quickly. The strongholds have mostly been taken over by cultists and bandits by now, but none of them know how to use the propylon chambers. Every Dunmer stronghold has one. They're kind of like old-fashioned guild guides, but you need the right index to operate them." He held up the rock again. "I'm trying to gather all the indices right now. I think that if I have all ten I'll be able to create a master index, which would allow you to travel through any of the propylon chambers with just one index."

"How many have you found?"

"Just the one, I'm afraid. I'm getting too old to run all over the island tracking down indices." Folms looked at her, as if suddenly aware of her situation. "I'll tell you what – if you can help me find the rest of the indices, then I'll give you the master index when I'm finished with it. I really wouldn't have any use for it, anyway."

"You would do that?" Fenara asked, shocked at his generosity.

"Certainly," Folms said brightly. "Do we have a deal?"

"A deal," Fenara confirmed. "I'll bring them all straight to you."

"Wonderful," Folms said. "Now, about that alchemy equipment." He leaned in, making sure no one heard. "There's an old set of pretty good apparatuses in the tower of the guildhall. If you close the door behind you and make sure no one sees, you can take them."

"Is that allowed?"

"Probably not," Folms said casually. "But I've been here longer than any of the other mages pottering around this guildhall, and nobody uses that set anymore. Go on and take them."

"Thank you," Fenara said gratefully. She found the alchemy equipment easily and found that it was, as Folms had said, a very decent set of apparatuses, though not as well-designed as her's had been. Carefully packing them away, she said goodbye to Folms and took the guild guide to Ald'ruhn.

Fenara had only briefly been in the Ald'ruhn guildhall, but she found she much preferred it to Balmora. The main room was supported by mosaic-covered pillars and lined with long tables heaped with books. The guild guide showed her to an empty room she could stay in, and Fenara gratefully emptied her bag. The bed here was a nice change from her apartment in Balmora, and Fenara resisted the urge to curl up on it at that very moment and went downstairs to introduce herself to the guildhall leader here.

Edwinna Elbert was a stout Breton woman with deep lines on her face that made her look more tired than anything. When Fenara introduced herself, she merely nodded and murmured something about needing a book.

"Can you do that for me, Associate?"

"I – pardon?"

"Chronicles of Nchuleft. Can you get a copy for me?"

"Oh!" Fenara said, understanding suddenly. "Yes! I – um, actually, I have a copy upstairs in my room –"

"Go get it." As Fenara went upstairs to fetch the book, she had a nagging suspicion that Edwinna's jobs would be mostly errands. Perhaps that was why Ajiira liked her so much.


	7. Chapter 7

Fenara's prediction proved to be correct. She spent her first day in Ald'ruhn teleporting to other guildhalls and fetching potions and books and ingredients and all other manner of things for Edwinna. When Edwinna was finally out of chores for her to do, Fenara went up to her room, exhausted, and fell asleep almost immediately. The next morning, Edwinna sent her straight to Maar Gan, a settlement north of Ald'ruhn, to check on someone called Huleen who she hadn't seen in a while.

"You can take the silt strider. It's only a couple of hours," Edwinna said, turning back to her work.

"Um…I don't do well with silt striders, actually."

"You're going to have to buck up if you want to live in Ald'ruhn, Evoker," she said, for Fenara had recently been promoted in rank again. "Traveling the Ashlands by foot is tricky business, and silt strider's the only other way to get around." Fenara didn't answer, and Edwinna sighed. "If you must know, you can get there by leaving past the silt strider port. There are signs the rest of the way."

"Thank you," Fenara said, and she hurried on her way.

The skies over Ald'ruhn were bleak as Fenara left town and started north. Ald'ruhn wasn't even out of sight yet when a Nix Hound, an odd, four-legged creature about as tall as Fenara, attacked her. She killed it with a simple fireball spell, but the encounter left her somewhat shaken.

Fenara walked the whole day, stopping occasionally to check the map Nine-Toes had given her. When night fell, she paused for a while, wondering whether or not she should keep going. But the dark emptiness of the Ashlands unnerved her, and she decided to sleep under a rocky outcropping along the road.

Hours later, Fenara awoke. It was still dark, and something told her it was still late as well. Wondering what had roused her, Fenara crawled out from under the outcropping and stood up, then screamed as a patch of shadow detached itself from the darkness and leapt at her.

Fen dove to the side, and her assailant's dagger hit stone with a loud ringing. He swore and grabbed the end of her braid. She struggled for a moment, then kicked one of his feet out from under him. He lost his balance and released her, and she started to run. But the assassin was faster, and she hadn't gotten far when she heard him coming up behind her again. She turned, and her sudden movement surprised him just long enough to give her time to throw a fire spell at him. It hit him in the chest and he stumbled backward, and Fenara took the opportunity to summon a scamp with a spell she had purchased in Caldera. It ran towards him, screeching, and Fenara continued to throw fire at him while he parried the scamp. But soon the scamp was gone, and he was coming towards her again. Fenara used her last bit of magicka on a final fire spell, and he fell back and hit the ground. Dead.

Fenara fell to her knees, her breath heavy in her throat. She looked at her hands, which were shaking violently, then back at the body before her. She had taken someone's life. She had killed a man. Fenara buried her head in her hands, exhausted and confused. Killing Nix Hounds was one thing, but killing a man was another.

Slowly gathering herself, Fenara crawled over to his corpse and pulled off his helmet. He was a Dunmer, unidentifiable. She couldn't ever remember seeing this man in her life. _So why did he want to kill me? _She asked herself. Perhaps he knew she was a princess. Perhaps – and her stomach knotted at this thought – her father had sent men to have her killed. All the same, she kept the helmet, figuring she ought to report the attack to the guards and thinking that the helmet might tell them who he was, and, more importantly, why he had tried to kill her.

Fenara got to her feet and walked the rest of the night, not wanting to sleep next to a body. It was dawn when she finally heard the moans of a silt strider, and not long after that the tall, Redoran-style walls of Maar Gan came into view. Fenara breathed a sigh of relief and jogged the rest of the way into town, desperate to get a bed and sleep for a while.

When she woke, it was midday, and she took the helmet to a guard she saw patrolling in town.

"This is the Dark Brotherhood," he said, examining the helm. He handed it back to her. "I don't know what they want with you, but it can't be good. When the Dark Brotherhood gets involved, most people just accept that they're going to die." Fenara frowned, her heart skipping a beat as the guard walked away. She looked down at the helm in her hand, hammered out of black material and covering the wearer's entire face.

"Wait!" The guard turned. "Is – isn't there anyone I can talk to?" The guard considered her for a moment.

"I suppose you could always tell Apelles Matius. He likes to know these sorts of things. Just arrived from Cyrodiil. You should find him in Ebonheart."

"Thank you. And could tell me where I would find Huleen's house?"

"Sure," he said, and he pointed past the silt strider. "Huleen lives just outside of town, there. You'll have to go around the strider port."

"Thank you," she said again, and put the helm away as she walked outside the walls and beneath the silt strider to where Huleen's house was, feeling a little less worried than before. Fenara knocked, but there was no answer. She pressed her ear to the door and heard were sounds of something scratching around and faint snuffling noises. She opened the door cautiously, remembering that Edwinna had told her that there had been a strange disturbance there.

The house was in disarray, but the source of it seemed to only be a scamp that was walking about stepping on broken pottery. Fenara dispatched it with the help of her own summoned scamp and went downstairs, looking around the disheveled room carefully. She found a key on the ground unlocked a closet door, bracing herself for the worst.

There was a shout, then a clay pot was hurtling towards her. Fenara ducked and the pot hit the wall and shattered. She looked up and saw a starkly naked Breton man standing there, another pot raised above his head. She looked away, her face flaming. Her father had always been careful about keeping her sheltered from such things, and being suddenly exposed to it embarrassed her more than anything else on Vvardenfell had yet.

"Oh," he said, seeing her and dropping the pot. "Is it gone?" He took a step towards her, and she quickly stepped back, trying to keep her eyes on his face.

"The – um – the scamp?"

"Yes! Did you get rid of it?"

"Ah…yes. It's gone."

"Oh, thank you!" he said, and he moved forward as if to embrace her. She quickly stepped back again, and he looked down, seeming to suddenly realize his nudity. "Oh, gods, you're a lady. So sorry. Um…" Fenara grabbed a tattered robe from the floor just outside the closet and quickly tossed it to him. He pulled it over his head. "Sorry about that. Yes. Well. I thank you for getting rid of that scamp. It was all my fault, really."

"What did you do?"

"I'm just…I was tired of being Huleen's apprentice. I wanted to be an actual sorcerer. I summoned it to prove myself to her, but…it got a bit out of hand. As you can see."

"That's quite all right," Fenara answered. "Um…where's Huleen?"

"She had to go up to Dagon Fel for something. A meeting with someone. She told me to keep house while she was gone. I'm Listien, by the way. Listien Bierles."

"Fen," she said, and they shook.

"Well," Listien said after a brief moment of awkwardness. "I'm sure you ought to be going."

"Yes," Fenara said. "Take care of yourself." She left the hut and reluctantly took the silt strider back to Ald'ruhn, not wanting to take another two-day walk. When the silt strider pulled into port, she was violently sick again, and the driver rolled his eyes and asked her to watch his shoes. When Fenara reported her success to Edwinna, Edwinna was unsurprisingly irritated.

"Her apprentice summoned a scamp? _That _interrupted me from my studies? Gods, the people working here are such imbeciles. Anyway," she said, slamming shut the book she was reading. "I need a Dwemer tube. And I need you to go fetch one for me." Fenara had no idea what a Dwemer tube was, but nodded glumly anyway.

"Where can I buy it?" Edwinna smiled slightly, the first time Fenara had seen one from her.

"You won't be able to buy a Dwemer tube anywhere legally," she said. "You'll have to find one. I know that there's one in Arkngthunch-Sturdumz that you should be able to find."

"In _what_?"

"Arkngthunch-Sturdumz. It's a Dwemer ruin just west of Ald Velothi."

"A Dwemer ruin." Fenara recalled hearing the phrase at some point in her studies, but her tutor had never dwelled on it.

"Yes, Evoker, a Dwemer ruin." Edwinna paused, studying Fenara's face. "You've been in Dwemer ruins before, haven't you, Evoker?" Fenara shook her head.

"I'm not even sure of what a Dwemer ruin is." Edwinna stared at her for a moment.

"How long have you been in Vvardenfell, Evoker?"

"About two and a half weeks."

"Well that explains it. The Dwemer were an ancient race of people that used to live in Vvardenfell. One day they just vanished without a trace. No one knows why. But their underground strongholds are still here, called Dwemer ruins. They're fascinating places, but the Empire has banned the trade of Dwemer artifacts, which makes it difficult for me to study them. You'll get a nice first-hand look at the ruin when you go to Arkngthunch-Sturdumz to get a Dwemer tube for me."

"There aren't…things still in the ruins, are there?"

"What, you mean people? No, the Dwemer are long gone. Some of their machinery is still there, and sometimes smugglers and bandits take up residence in the ruins, but Arkngthunch-Sturdumz was empty last time I sent someone down there to get something for me. Now off you go. You can take the silt strider to Gnisis, and from there it's an hour's walk to Ald Velothi. The ruin is just west of town."

Fenara opened her map as Edwinna strolled away carrying her book, wondering if she could possibly walk to Gnisis and avoid the silt strider. But it was a long walk, at least two days, and she decided, having no shelter and not enough food, to take the silt strider and deal with the motion sickness.

She arrived in Gnisis (after retching over the silt strider platform) and started the walk to Ald Velothi at once. It was late in the afternoon, and she wanted to be back in Ald'ruhn by nightfall if she could. Rain threatened the whole walk, but thankfully stayed away until she reached the small fishing village perched on the edge of the Sea of Ghosts.

A guard directed her to Arkngthunch-Sturdumz, and she soon reached a wide bridge made of rusted metal. As she crossed the bridge, the ruin began to come into view, and Fenara paused to take in the splendor of it.

The stronghold was comprised of a confusion of rounded towers and sharp-tipped spires. The buildings were all made of the same decrepit metal as the bridge, and they were all connected by thick pipes. At the end of the bridge, an enormous stone statue of a man with a curled beard and pointed ears pointing a stone crossbow down at whoever was crossing the bridge at the time. Fenara slowly walked around the statue and into a small open space around the towers, gazing around. There was an enormous golden crossbow that was stained with age, but looked like it had once been grand, pointing off the edge of the cliff that Arkngthunch-Sturdumz was built on. Loose bricks and bits of pipe and metal were scattered around the space, and a few rats scampered back and forth. She found a round door set deep into one of the lower buildings and pushed it open with a loud scraping noise of metal on metal.

Inside, the ruin was dim and low-ceilinged. Fenara descended a set of stairs into a small entrance room, where she could hear the mechanic clicking and whirring of…something. A thick pipe ran the length of the room, dotted with hazy yellow lights that buzzed and flickered and carved with odd, spiky characters she could not read. The hallway beyond had a grate set into the floor, from which a red glow was lighting up the hallway. Beneath the grate, Fenara could hear a loud, slow rumbling.

There was a sudden clicking, and a large creature made of tarnished yellow metal came around the corner. It had a body the size of Fenara's head with six long, spiky legs that clicked on the ground. It looked like some kind of overgrown spider. The spider creature clicked over to Fenara, standing up on its back legs and attempting to swat at her with the front two. It didn't seem like much of a threat to her, but it continued to swat, so she used a fire spell on it and it fell backwards and stopped clicking. Fenara stepped over the spider and found a small antechamber where a large machine that was bolted to the wall was vibrating slightly as it spun and clicked, releasing steam from a vent every few seconds. Fenara watched it for a moment, unsure of what it was doing, then turned and went down the red-lit hallway, which turned out to be blistering hot. As she walked over the grate, she glanced down and saw molten lava was flowing through it. _Geothermal energy? _she thought to herself as she passed into the next room. Whoever these Dwarves had been, they were clever.

Fenara passed through the rest of the ruin, finding nothing but clicking spiders and hissing machinery until she reached the last chamber, were a long metal cylinder sat on a dented steel shelf. She picked it up, surprised at its weight, and examined it carefully. There wasn't anything else of interest in the ruin, so she assumed this to be the Dwemer tube Edwinna wanted and carefully put it in her bag before backtracking out of the ruin.

It was much cooler outside, as evening had just started to settle. Fenara glanced back at the fading ruin over her shoulder as she crossed the bridge. _Odd, _she thought to herself. _Very odd. _

The journey back to Ald'ruhn only lasted a few hours, and she delivered the tube to Edwinna by nine.

"Good work, Evoker," Edwinna said approvingly, taking the tube from her. "I might have something else for you here…"

"Edwinna?" Fenara said quickly, before Edwinna could dig up another job for her to do. "Could I – I mean, could I just – um – go to bed early tonight and take tomorrow off? I've just been doing guild work nonstop all this week and –"

"Fine, fine," Edwinna said easily, waving her away. "Just come see me again when you want something to do." Surprised at her good luck, Fenara went upstairs and gratefully climbed into her bed.

Early the next morning, she took the guild guide to Vivec, and from there managed to navigate the Foreign Quarters until she got to the bridge that took her to land. Vivec was a monstrous city, comprised of nine enormous tiered buildings that floated in the water called cantons. The cantons were connected by various bridges and spanned an area far greater than Ald'ruhn and Balmora together. Fenara went to the small ship that docked near the silt strider and paid for passage to Ebonheart, a small Imperial town just west of Vivec. It was midday when she arrived, and she wasted no time in seeking out Apelles Matius, who she found patrolling the battlements at the back of town.

"Sir," she said, reaching into her bag to take out the Dark Brotherhood helmet. "I was attacked a few days ago, by an assassin wearing this mask. I was told to report to you." She held out the helm. He gave her a quizzical look, then took the helm from her and examined it, a grim expression on his face.

"This is the Dark Brotherhood."

"That's what the guard I reported it to told me," she answered. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, studying the helm.

"Truthfully, I'm not sure what to tell you, other than to write a will. You must've done something to anger someone pretty badly if they sent the Dark Brotherhood after you."

"But I haven't done anything!" Fenara said incredulously. "I just want them to stop attacking me!" Apelles Matius tucked the helm under his arm and looked up at her.

"If you really want to clear this business up, I'd suggest you go to Mournhold yourself." Fenara's stomach flipped.

"G – go to Mournhold?"

"Well, yes. Let me see, Asciene Rane in the Grand Council Chambers should be able to teleport you there. All ships have been stopped, you see, because of the Blight. But if you just let her know…" he continued talking, but Fenara wasn't listening. She could go back to Mournhold. To the City of Light. She could see her grandmother again.

"Thank you!" she said, cutting him off in the middle of his sentence and sprinting away, towards the small castle that was called the Grand Council Chambers. She quickly found Asciene Rane, an elderly Breton woman that was standing idly in the corner of the entrance hall. "Excuse me," she said breathlessly. "I was told you could take me to Mournhold."

"You want to go to Mournhold?" she said, smiling merrily. "Well, certainly, I can teleport you. What business do you have there?"

"I'm – er – I was attacked by the – um, Dark Brotherhood, and I need to investigate." Fenara bounced on the balls of her feet, unable to contain her excitement.

"Oh my! Well, that's dangerous business. I hope you get that cleared up, dear. Now then, I'll take you to the Reception Area of the Royal Palace. When you want to come back, speak to Effe-Tei." _Effe-Tei! _Her heart leapt at the mention of a familiar name. Asciene Rane took Fenara's hand, and there was a brief sensation of hurtling through space, then her feet were on solid ground again. Fenara opened her eyes and saw Effe-Tei standing there, just turning to greet the new arrival.

"Effe-Tei!" she cried, running into his arms and embracing him. "I'm back! I've come back, Effe-Tei!" She buried her face in his shoulder, restraining herself from leaping with delight.

"Princess?" Effe-Tei gently took her arms away from him and held her back slightly. Where Fenara had expected to see joy identical to her's, Effe-Tei's reptilian face suddenly portrayed terror.

"What is it?" she asked, letting her arms drop.

"Princess, you cannot be seen here," Effe-Tei said, hurrying to check that they were alone in the room. He pulled a curtain over the rose-glass window.

"What do you mean, Effe-Tei? I've come back. I found a way back. I just need to talk to my father, and –"

"You cannot," Effe-Tei said hastily. "King Helseth has issued a warrant for your immediate arrest if you appear anywhere within the city walls." Fenara's heart sank.

"What?"

"If anyone sees you, you will spend the rest of your life in the prisons without trial, Princess!" Effe-Tei exclaimed nervously. "At least in Vvardenfell you have a chance!"

"I just need to talk to my father, then," she said, starting towards the door. "I just need a chance to explain to him that –"

"No, Princess!" Effe-Tei seized her arm and pulled her away from the door. "I am doing this because I care for you, Princess. Please do not put yourself in peril." There was a sudden hammering on the door and Effe-Tei's eyes widened. "I must take you back!"

"No – no, Effe-Tei, wait!" she cried, but she was already spinning, already moving through space again, and when her eyes opened she was in the Grand Council Chambers in Ebonheart. The fantastically familiar reception hall was gone. Effe-Tei was gone. All she wanted to do was fall on the ground and sob.

"Well that was a quick journey!" Asciene Rane chuckled. Fenara ignored her. She went outside as if in a trance. Thunder boomed overhead and began to fall, and she stared silently up at the sky, her heart sinking.


	8. Chapter 8

Fenara spent the following weeks traveling to various Dwemer ruins under the instruction of Edwinna Elbert, fetching various artifacts and rare books and plans for her. Her days fell into a pattern, and Fenara found herself growing comfortable with entering the ruins. It was odd, for they were all dark and eerily silent save for the occasional clicking spider, but Fenara found that she felt oddly at home inside them, and she often dwelled as long as she could in the ruins, trying to make sense of the script along the walls and admiring the intricacy of the artifacts she found there.

One chilly evening in the first week of Frost Fall found Fenara in her room in the guildhall in Ald'ruhn, crushing green lichen with her mortar and pestle taken from the storage tower of the Caldera guildhall. She set the pestle down and knelt down to check the Dwemer metal that was melting inside the calcinator, then glanced at the recepie she was following. It was a formula given to her by Anaranen, the Altmer alchemist who took up residence in the lower level of the guildhall, and who often offered Fenara advice in the area of alchemy. This was a recepie for a restore strength potion that Anaranen had said turned out enormously well, but as she studied the parchment again she frowned. It called for fire petals treated with fresh resin, an ingredient she must have skipped over when she first read it. Fenara knew she had the treated fire petals somewhere, but a thorough search through her room yielded nothing, nor did asking Anaranen. Thinking hard for where she had left the petals as she went back upstairs, she suddenly remembered – they were in a cabinet in her old apartment in Balmora. She had left them there when she moved, having never come across a recepie that called for them and thinking them rather useless. Extinguishing the calcinator, Fenara donned her cloak and took the guild guide to Balmora, intending for this to be a quick trip there and back.

It was evening when she left the guildhall in Balmora and started towards the river. She climbed the stairs to the back street and went straight up to her door, finding, to her surprise, that the key was still in the lock where she had left it. Fenara went into the apartment, which was dark and chilly inside, and opened the cabinet, finding the treated fire petals still in their jar, pushed to the very back. She left the apartment with the treated fire petals under her arm and had made it to the bottom of the stairs when she heard a familiar voice.

"Fen." She turned to see Caius Cosades, with a shirt on this time, paused in the act of unlocking the door to his small, one-room house.

"Oh – um…good evening, Ca –"

"Inside." He pushed open the door with his foot and went in curtly, leaving it ajar. Resigned, Fenara followed him in and gagged slightly at the stifling, sticky smell of moon sugar that choked the air. "I told you," he said deliberately, kicking his shoes off and stumbling over to his bed. He leaned over and groped for something underneath it. "That you need to get a bit of experience under your belt, then come see me for orders. It's been what, three months?"

"I hardly think it's been three," Fenara said defensively. "Two, at the most –"

"The point is," Cosades interrupted, straightening up with his battered skooma pipe in one hand. "We have work to do, and I can't afford to let my agents run about doing whatever they like while there are things to be done. You owe the Emperor your life and service, and this isn't a dandy way to repay him." Cosades banged the pipe down on the table and twisted the lid off, pulling a packet of moon sugar out of his pocket and tearing the top off. "So," he said, shaking the sugar into the pipe and screwing the lid back on. "Are you ready to follow my orders _this _time, Fen?"

"I suppose so," she replied curtly, feeling that, like last time, she didn't have much of a choice.

"Good," Cosades said, now lighting the tip of the pipe with the candle on the table. "Go talk to Hasphat Antabolis at the Balmora Fighters Guild. Ask him what he knows about the Nerevarine secret cult and the Sixth House secret cult. You'll have to do him a favor first. Probably an ugly favor. But do it. Then get the information from Antabolis and report back to me." He shook the pipe around, then took the end of the mouthpiece and took a long drag on it. When he looked up at Fenara, he looked immensely relaxed. "By the way... Hasphat is a student of Morrowind history. Take the chance to get a little education. No point in being part of history if you're too ignorant to understand it, eh?" He pulled a long, dusty book off the table and blew some of the grime off the cover. "Here. Janette Sitte's little book is a good place to start. Take it. You might also look for _On Morrowind, the Imperial Province_, by Erramanwe of Sunhold." Fenara took the book and looked down at the cover. _A Short History of Morrowind._

"I suppose I'll be off, then," she said coldly, tucking the book under her arm.

"Good. And mind that you get it done." Fenara left Caius Cosades to his skooma and went out into the dark street, struggling a bit with the heavy jar and the thick book. She hadn't thought to bring her whole bag with her – it seemed silly, for all she had meant to come here for was the treated fire petals. Not wanting to be in Balmora more than necessary, she crossed the river and went straight to the Fighter's Guild, which was conveniently located in a crowded street beside the Mages' Guild. She asked a woman polishing a shield inside the door where she might find Hasphat Antabolis and was directed to the training room downstairs. Fenara found the room easily enough and left her cumbersome load by the door.

Hasphat Antabolis was indeed in the training room, standing on the thick burlap mats with an Imperial woman with a lopsided dummy set up in front of them. The woman was methodically punching the dummy, while Hasphat periodically stopped her to correct her posture or demonstrate a better method. For a moment, Fenara hung back, not wanting to interrupt, but when Hasphat caught sight of her, he motioned for the woman to go on practicing and came to the doorway to meet her.

"What can I help you with?" he asked, smiling. He was an Imperial man, tall and thick-chested with a short crop of dark hair.

"I was sent by Caius Cosades," she said. "He asked me to –"

"Old Caius, eh?" Hasphat said with a chuckle. "Well, I'd be glad to help you with whatever you need, friend, but it would be nice if you'd do me a little favor first."

"What kind of favor?" she asked warily.

"There are Dwemer ruins nearby called Arkngthand. I need you to run over there and find me a little cube with a circular design and some symbols on one side. It's called a 'Dwemer puzzle box'. Bring me back the Dwemer puzzle box, and I'll tell you what you want to know."

"That's all?" Fenara said, her spirits lifting at this news. The Dwemer ruins felt home enough to her to make her enjoy going into them. Hasphat nodded. "How do I get there?"

"The old Dwemer ruins at Arkngthand are extensive on the surface and underground. Head south out of town past the silt strider port, then cross bridges east over the Odai River. At the signpost, head north towards Caldera. Immediately on the right see a signpost for Molag Mar. Turn right and head uphill on an old road to cross an ancient Dwemer bridge over Foyada Mamaea. The entrance to Arkngthand is on the east side of the foyada, south of the bridge. Turn a crank on a pipe nearby to open the doors. The little cube I'm looking for is about the size of a fist, maybe a little bigger. It will be made of a coppery metal, with a circular design and symbols on one side and some lined marks on the other sides. That's all I want, that little cube."

Fenara thanked Hasphat and let him return to his training, picking up the book and the jar again and taking the guild guide back to Ald'ruhn, not wanting to spend the night in the apartment over Cosades' house. When morning dawned, she took the guild guide back to Balmora and started the walk south towards Arkngthand.

The morning was crisp and mist was settled over the grass on either side of the path. Fenara walked quickly, partly to keep her feet warm and partly for excitement at entering a new ruin. She found the bridge Hasphat had mentioned and started across it, not noticing the figure at the end until she was nearly halfway across. Here, Fenara faltered. Several times, she had come across travelers on the road. They were often friendly, but once or twice she had met a bandit and had run instead of attacking. The thought of taking someone's life still sickened her. But she would not be able to run if this man proved to be hostile.

Fenara moved forward warily, her hands up and a spell at the ready. Just as she was about to meet him, he turned, swore, and summoned a skeleton. Fenara moved backward quickly, summoning a flame atronach, a lithe yet enormous golem composed entirely of live fire. The atronach reduced the skeleton to dust with a single swipe, then moved forward to attack the man. Fenara stayed back, hesitant to enter the fray. It proved, however, to be a small fray, for her summoned atronach wrapped one flaming hand around the man's neck and seared his skin, making him scream in sudden agony before the atronach hurled him off the side of the bridge. There was a dull and distant crunch of metal and bones that bounced around the tall stone walls of the foyada, then utter silence. The atronach turned to Fenara, gazing at her through slitted eyes and waiting for instruction. Feeling slightly sick, she made a smooth gesture and the atronach faded away. _At least it wasn't me that did the killing, _she thought, walking across the end of the bridge. _Ah, but you did the summoning,_ murmured a nasty voice in the back of her head. Determinately ignoring it, Fenara climbed a small hill to the entrance of Arkngthand.

Fenara couldn't find a door, but instead a rounded, door-sized sheet of metal set into one of the buildings. Remembering that Hasphat had told her that she needed to pull a crank, she started moving around the door, searching. She finally found a large rounded handle on a broken pipe not far away from what she assumed was the entrance. The crank was rusted and should have been difficult to operate, but in turned easily, which worried Fenara. Perhaps she wouldn't be the only one in Arkngthand.

As the crank turned, the rounded metal split in two and the pieces began to separate, revealing that they formed a shell over the real door. Realizing they were about to close over the door before she could open it, Fenara quickly ran to the entrance and pushed it open, squeezing past the two halves of the shell with a familiar screeching noise.

She found herself in a cavernous hall, quite different from the usual low-ceilinged antechambers she came into in most ruins. Arkngthand, unlike the other Dwemer ruins, did not put her at ease – on the contrary, it made her feel sick to her stomach.

The walkway she was on ended abruptly in a layer of torn metal that looked like it had been violently ripped away. A makeshift ramp of large boulders and flimsy-looking sheets of scrap metal wound down to the rocky color of the hall. Uneasy about the safety of the ramp, Fenara levitated over the walkway and came to a halt on a rusted platform at the bottom. Before her, there were two tiers of open rooms, each with several circular doors set into the wall. Behind her, a rocky cavern tunneled into another Dwemer ruin. Deciding to explore the tiers first, she started off the platform and heard a loud, sudden shout that echoed around the metal walls.

Fenara took several instinctive steps back, her robes swaying around her ankles, and summoned a scamp, preferring to save her magicka and deciding against another atronach. The scamp immediately scurried forward and started clawing at one of the two men who had appeared out of the shadows. The other bypassed the scamp and came straight towards Fenara, his silver dagger glinting in the dim light.

For a brief moment, she hesitated, but then the man was upon her and he was raising his dagger towards her. In a sudden adrenaline rush, she stepped forward, grabbed his shoulder with one hand, and pressed the first two fingers of her other hand to his forehead. A frost spell she had made herself radiated through her fingers and she felt its energy pass into him, causing his whole body to suddenly go rigid with cold, then collapse. A few feet away, the scamp's enemy fell as well, and it pranced proudly back over to her. Fenara looked down at the second man she had killed and cracked her knuckles nervously, then kicked aside the dagger with a clatter and made a smooth sweep through the air to banish the scamp. It faded away and she went into the main part of the room, glancing around. A lopsided ramp of boulders led up to the second tier, but this, too, looked unstable, and Fenara levitated up instead.

The tier was empty save for a battered hutch carrying a few old cups and bowls of Dwemer design. There was a round door set into the wall, though, and she pushed this open and went through to a much smaller, dark room.

"Red? That you?" a deep Imperial's voice said from a corner. Not stopping this time, Fenara shot poison spell towards the voice and backed up as it hit the man there. He gave an angry cry and sprinted out, drawing a sword, but Fenara kept moving backwards, knowing the spell would quickly take hold and hoping he didn't get to her before it did. Luckily, he gave a strangled gasp and fell to the ground just before he reached her, letting out a strangled hack before he died.

Quickly stepping over the body, Fenara went to hurriedly comb through the shelves there. On the bottom shelf, she found a small cube engraved with markings and lines, just as Hasphat had described it. Surprised at her luck, Fenara carefully packed the cube away and left the way she came, levitating back up to the entrance. Had the ruin been more like the ones Edwinna had sent her to, Fenara would have gladly stayed, but the presence of the smugglers made her quite sure that she would be forced to spill more blood if she wanted to continue, and that thought alone made her stomach tie itself in knots.

The walk back to Balmora was uneventful, and Fenara went straight to the Fighter's Guild to deliver the cube. Hasphat took it with a pleased look in his eye and slipped it into his pocket.

"Perfect, perfect. Now, I suppose you want to know about the Sixth House and the Nerevarine, don't you?"

"I'd love to," Fenara said gratefully, and Hasphat pulled two chairs out from where they were stacked by the wall and he and Fenara sat down.

"So," Hasphat said, leaning back heavily. "Old Caius wants to know about Sixth House and the Nerevarine." Fenara said nothing, assuming this statement was for dramatic effect. "I don't know much about the Nerevarine, honestly. The Ashlanders believe a reborn Nerevar will unite the Dunmer against the outlander invaders and restore the ancient Dark Elven nation. Nerevar is a legendary hero and saint of the Temple, but the Temple denies the prophecy, and persecutes heretics who believe in the Nerevarine. Tell Caius that Sharn gra-Muzgob would be a better person to ask about the native faiths and superstitions." He leaned forward, an excited look in his eye. "I _can _tell you quite a bit about the Sixth House, though.

"House Dagoth is the Sixth House, the 'lost' Sixth House. In the First Age, House Dagoth betrayed the other Great Houses during the War of the First Council, and was destroyed for their treason. I can answer any questions you have, but I'll also give you some notes to give to Caius, and recommend some Sixth House references he should read." He pulled a folded sheet of parchment out of his pocket and handed it to Fenara.

"What is House Dagoth?" Fenara asked, putting the parchment away. "I've never heard of it."

"House Dagoth was the Sixth of the Seven Dunmer Great Houses. Nothing remains of the Sixth House. Its members were all slain or adopted into other Great Houses following their treason in the War of the First Council. Their clanstead was called Kogoruhn."

"And the Sixth House Cult? Is it different from the Sixth House?" Hasphat leaned back thoughtfully.

"I've heard something about a secret cult worshipping Dagoth Ur. The idea is that the Tribunal are false gods who have betrayed Morrowind to the Imperials. The cult plans to overthrow the Temple and drive the Empire from Morrowind. The cult is outlawed by the Temple, the Great Houses, or the Empire, and I doubt it's very popular. I've also heard there's some connection with smuggling...that they smuggle goods, or hire smugglers, or something like that."

"And what is Dagoth Ur?" She wasn't sure why, but the name gave her an odd feeling that she couldn't quite describe. Hasphat looked at her, a wry smile on his face.

"Dagoth Ur was the leader of the extinct Sixth House, House Dagoth, the traitor house destroyed in the War of the First Council. Dagoth Ur is the evil immortal enemy of the Tribunal Temple cult. The Temple blames Dagoth Ur and his hosts for all the evils that beset the Dunmer and Morrowind. Dagoth Ur dwells in fiery caverns beneath Red Mountain, served by his kin and legions of monsters.

"Caius says he's fed up with heroes. The Empire keeps sending them out here to the provinces to 'civilize' things. The fools don't seem to realize that their 'destinies' are being created by historical processes. And they're too ignorant and impatient to understand it. So Caius sends you to me, hoping you'll be different." Hasphat smiled grimly. "Poor Caius. So many disappointments. He and I always argue over the role of the individual in history. Is the individual shaped and controlled by history? Or can an exceptional individual shape history? Are individuals carried in the stream? Or do they dam and divert the flow? I say Tiber Septim changed the world. Caius says that Tiber Septim was a product of his time, and if he hadn't lived, some other person would have served his function. What about you? Are you going to change the world? Or just be carried by the flow? When we _understand_ the events that occur to us, the events become history. History is understanding. Otherwise we're all just dumb animals trying to get in out of the cold." With this pronouncement, Hasphat stood up promptly, startling Fenara. She stood up as well, and he picked up their chairs and carried them to the side of the room. "I hope I've been helpful – I never caught your name."

"Fen," she said, and she was surprised at how natural it felt on her tongue. "My name is Fen."

"Well, Fen, I hope I've been helpful. Take those notes to Caius, he'll be able to do something with them. And good luck with the rest of your endeavors." He smiled, and she wished him well and went outside.

For a moment, she stood under the stone awning over the door, staring up at the cloudy sky. _What about you? Are you going to change the world? Or just be carried by the flow? _She looked down at her hands, her hands that were used to being idle and wearing gold rings and were now callused and worn. Who _was _she? Surely she was no longer Princess Fenara Almalexia Helseth. But she certainly didn't feel like Fen, a mere Magician of the Mages' Guild. So was she something else? _Perhaps I don't know yet, _she thought. _Perhaps I'm something yet to come._ And, reassured slightly by this thought, she stepped into the cold and started back towards Caius' house.


	9. Chapter 9

"Good work, Fen," Caius said, taking the notes from her and glancing them over. "Now, these cover the Sixth House admirably, but don't touch much on the Nerevarine cult." He folded up the notes and tripped over a boot on his way to store them in his lockbox. "I want you to go talk to this Sharn gra-Muzgob Hasphat mentions. She's in your guild, you might know her. Get some information about the Nerevarine cult, then come back here. She'll probably have you do some ridiculous task as well, but just do it." He dismissed her promptly, and Fen detoured into the Eight Plates for a brief dinner, then over the Mages' Guild to talk to Sharn gra-Muzgob, as it was only just evening. She had never actually spoken to Sharn, a heavyset Orcish woman with a sullen face and a head of dark braids that looked like snakes, for she always either looked very angry or very busy. Now Fen approached her cautiously where the woman was examining a shelf of potions, looking irritated.

"Sharn gra-Muzgob?" The Orc swore, seized one of the bottles, and threw it violently down onto the flagstone, where it shattered. Fen took a step back, instantly terrified.

"I ask for one day, one damn day, to do my research in peace, and I get _more interruptions!_"

"Goodness, Sharn, calm down," said a tall Altmer woman named Erstadalin who was coming over with a tray of potions. She gestured simply at the broken glass on the ground and it repaired itself instantly. "The rest of us are studying as well." Erstadalin moved past Sharn, who was now positively fuming, and started cataloging the potions from her tray onto the shelf.

"What do you want?" Sharn asked Fen sharply, snatching up the now-fixed bottle and plunking it down angrily on the table beside them.

"Caius – Caius Cosades sent me –"

"Oh," Sharn said, her demeanor changing at once. "Well if you're with Caius it's a different matter. I owe him a bit of a…um…favor. Caius and I have a very satisfactory arrangement, and I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement, if you will complete a little errand for me." Behind her, Erstadalin rolled her eyes.

"What kind of errand?" Fen asked warily.

"It's very simple. I need the skull of Llevule Andrano. You'll find it in Andrano Ancestral Tomb. But take care not to upset the natives. The Dunmer have some peculiar primitive prejudices against necromancy, and take grave objection to unauthorized tomb visits." For a moment, Fen wasn't sure how to respond. There was a crypt below the palace where all of the members of the Royal Family were buried. Fen had only been there once, for a private burial of a distant cousin, but she still greatly understood the importance of the protection of tombs, and Sharn's request mortified her. The Orc seemed to sense this, and went on. "He was no one special. A journeyman enchanter. There may be many skulls in Andrano Tomb, but you'll have no problem recognizing Llevule's skull from the ritual markings.

"Now, ah, the tomb is south of Pelagiad, just off the road, just before you reach the fork where the road goes southwest towards Seyda Neen and southeast to Vivec. You shouldn't have much trouble locating it. Now, if you'll excuse me," she said, and she quickly shoved past Fen and ducked into a smaller antechamber off the hall. Erstadalin rolled her eyes again, picked up her empty tray, patted Fen on the shoulder as she passed.

"Good luck dealing with _her, _Magician."

Fen took the guild guide back to Ald'ruhn and took out the book Caius had given her, _A Short History of Morrowind. _She began to read, but as she got farther into the book she started to realize that she had studied all of this monotonously during those endless afternoons in her tutor's apartments. The words of the history she could already recite backwards began to blur together, and soon she was asleep.

Fen was standing in darkness. The heavy silence pressed against her, but as she took a step, stones appeared beneath her feet and blossomed from there, stretching out in a line that disappeared far in the distance. The stones began to flow upward as well, creating long benches, lining the aisle in between. The rest of the space remained dark. As she watched, figures appeared on the benches, figures that were hunched and slumped over onto one another. She found this odd, but could not move another step. Then she felt a long-fingered hand on her shoulder, and turned to see a tall man in a golden mask standing there, offering her his other hand. She took it, and he moved past her and began to lead her down the aisle, as if it were a wedding ceremony. As the passed the first two benches, the man turned and spoke to them, laughing at a joke, and Fen turned as well, only to see that they were corpses, their skin rotted and their limbs mangled and caked with blood. Flies gathered in their empty eye sockets and their shredded clothes hung limply around them. As the man spoke, thousands of voices began to echo around the darkness, calling out in a cacophony of sound, but she could not make out any one voice. The continued down the aisle, the man talking with each corpse they passed as the voices grew louder and louder. Her chest felt tight, and she suddenly found that she could not breathe. Fear grasped her, and she tried to scream, but could make no sound –

Fen sat bolt upright, drenched in a cold sweat. The room was dark, and the sheets were tangled around her legs like vines. She struggled, tore them away, threw them violently down on the floor. She tried to light a candle, but her hands were shaking so badly that she nearly set the table alight, so she clutched the wick and cast a weak fire spell to light it. As light flared up in her small, quiet room in Ald'ruhn, Fen collapsed on the ground, hugging her knees to her chest, her breath rapid and shaky. Most of the dream had faded from her mind, but the vision of the masked man talking to a rotting corpse filled her mind…

She buried her face in her hands, trying to calm herself. She had had disturbing dreams before. Why had this one affected her so badly? She slowly got to her feet, afraid to sleep again. _Like a child, _she though scornfully, as she sat at her desk in her dressing gown reading _A Short History of Morrowind, _trying fruitlessly to rid the dream from her mind.

When morning dawned, she gratefully dressed and used a spell of Recall to teleport straight from her room to the Halfway Tavern in Pelagiad. She had set one of her Marks there, seeing as there was no easy way to reach the small Imperial settlement. Fen left town and followed the road south, where Sharn had said to look for the tomb. She found it right where the Orc had told her it would be – right before a fork in the road.

Fen had come across ancestral tombs before, but had never entered them out of respect. She was tempted to return to Balmora there and tell Sharn that she would have to find a different way to get the skull, but that would bring up problems with Cosades, which she was keen to avoid.

_I just won't touch anything, _she promised herself as she pushed open the door to the tomb. With a nasty thought, she realized that the royal catacombs under the palace had been guarded by the ghosts of her ancestors that would attack anyone that was not part of her family that dared to enter the crypt. Hoping desperately that this was a feature unique to the Mournhold tomb, she entered into a dark stairwell that led straight down to a hallway that turned sharply out of sight.

Fen went down the stairs and turned into a small antechamber, where she jumped slightly at the sight of a body sprawled on the ground. It was a Dunmer man, wearing rusty armor that had great patches of it torn out. A short distance away, a rusty sword was twisted into a knot. Trying to ignore the stench from the body that reminded her all too much of her dream, Fen stepped over the Dunmer and continued down the hall, passing by the altars that held tall urns and offerings. She came to a long, curving ramp downwards and was halfway down when she was saw an ancestral ghost from behind.

Hoping it wouldn't notice her, she started to move towards a door set into the wall and almost made it when the ghost suddenly shrieked and turned around, gliding quickly towards her with its bony hands outstretched. Panicking, Fen shot a fire spell at it, and the ghost screeched and evaporated into a lump of gravedust on the ground. Her heart thrumming loudly, she opened the door and was met face to face with a bonewalker, a fleshy monstrosity that had sharp-tipped bones portruding from its body in random places. Fen disposed of this, too, with a fire spell, and passed the bonewalker's body into the room it had been guarding. At the head of this room was an low, round pit of ash, circular to represent the life cycle and strewn with the ashes of the heads of family. A low stool stood at the base of the pit, holding an enchanted dagger and a skull carved with runes and symbols.

As she stepped up to the ash pit, she heard a faint whispering of many voices, but when she looked around, she was alone in the room. Chills raced up her arms, and she quickly picked up the skull and hurried back out the way she came, feeling enormously guilty. She locked the door of the ancestral tomb firmly when she was back outside, hoping to prevent any more graverobbers from entering. Tucking the skull into her bag, she walked back to Balmora to try and enjoy the rare sunny day, though the skull's presence felt like it was burning a hole in her bag.

Sharn gra-Muzgob was enormously pleased with the skull. She snatched it greedily out of Fen's hands and locked it quickly in a trunk nearby.

"Now," Sharn said, turning back to Fen with an unpleasant smile on her face. "About that favor for Caius. What did he send you for, again?"

"The Nerevarine cult. Hasphat Antabolis suggested he talk to you about it."

"Ah yes. The Nerevarine cult." Sharn gestured for Fen to sit down at a nearby table while she unlocked the chest and rummaged in it for a moment, then came out with a few folded sheets of parchment. "This Ashlander cult believes the long-dead hero Nerevar will be reborn to honor ancient promises to the tribes. According to legend, the prophesied Nerevarine will cast down the false gods of the Tribunal Temple, restore the traditional ancestor worship practiced by the Ashlanders, and drive all outlanders from Morrowind. Both Temple and Empire outlaw the cult, but it persists among the Ashlanders, who care little for Imperial or Temple law. Take this copy of my notes on the topic for Caius." She pushed the parchment across the table to Fen.

"What is the Nerevarine prophecy?" she asked, putting the notes away. The phrase seemed familiar, but she couldn't remember where she had heard it.

"Ashlander culture honors dream visions and prophecy, unlike the Temple and the Western cults, which regard visions and prophecy as primitive superstition. Wise women interpret dreams and visions, and pass them on to succeeding generations. The most common version of the Nerevarine Prophecy is _The Stranger_. Did you know that Nerevar was known to possess a magical ring named 'One-Clan-Under-Moon-and-Star'? Nerevar swore his promise to honor ancient Ashlander traditions and land rights on this magical ring."

"Nerevar?"

"Nerevar is a First Age hero of the Dunmer people. He was a great general and leader. He helped form the First Council, and united the Dunmer Houses against foreign invaders aided by the traitors of House Dagoth. He triumphed over Morrowind's enemies at Red Mountain, but died in the battle.

"Now, the Temple refers to any demented impostor who claims to be the Nerevarine as 'the False Incarnate'. The Temple treats such persons as insane, and Ordinators pursue and imprison them 'for their own protection.' The Temple has reported that the most recent False Incarnate, a girl child named Peakstar, has died, but they've produced no body, and skeptics are suspicious of Temple claims. That may be true, but I haven't heard that the Temple has offered any convincing proof that she is dead.

"Those notes should cover any other questions Caius has," Sharn said, standing up. "I've also written down the verses of _The Stranger _that I know. Thank you again for the skull," she added dismissively. Fen thanked her and stood up. She took out the notes as she left the guild and started to walk with them, reading carefully.

_**The Nerevarine Cult**_

_This Ashlander religious cult follows prophecies of a Nerevar reborn to honor ancient promises to the tribes, to reestablish the traditions of the Prophet Veloth, to cast down the false gods of the Tribunal Temple, and to drive all outlanders from Morrowind. Both Temple and Empire outlaw the cult, but it persists among the Ashlanders, despite Imperial and Temple repression. Because it is persecuted, it remains a secret cult, and it is hard to judge how widespread it is among the Ashlanders, or whether it has any following outside the Ashlander tribes._

_**The Nerevarine**_

_The Ashlanders firmly believe that Nerevar will return to restore the glories of ancient Resdayn. [Morrowind was called 'Resdayn' before the Imperial Occupation.] The Ashlanders say the Great Houses and the Temple have abandoned the pure teachings of the Prophet Veloth, forsaking ancestor worship for the false gods of the Tribunal, and embracing the comforts of civilization that corrupted the High Elves. The Temple, on the other hand, venerates Saint Nerevar, but rejects the disgusting notion that the False Incarnate will walk the earth like a ghoul._

_**Nerevar**_

_The Temple honors Saint Nerevar as the greatest Dunmer general, First Councilor, and companion of Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil, who united the Dunmer Houses to destroy the evil Dwemer, the treacherous House Dagoth, and their Western allies at Red Mountain. But the Ashlanders say Nerevar promised to honor the Ancient Spirits and the Tribal law, and that he will come again to honor that promise. To the Ashlanders, this means destroying the false Temple and driving the Imperial invaders from the land._

_**Nerevarine Prophecies**_

_Dream visions and prophecies are a respected tradition in Ashlander culture. Their wise women and shamans take careful note of dreams and visions, and pass on the tribe's legacies of vision and prophecy to their successors. By contrast, the Temple and the Western faiths are suspicious of mysticism, and they regard interpretation of dreams and visions as primitive superstition._

_The most common version of the Nerevarine Prophecy is _The Stranger_. The verses are obscure, as are most prophecies. But two observations are in order._

_First, many less-well-informed scholars assume that the phrase 'journeyed far 'neath moon and star' is just a cliché to suggest a very long journey, but the Nerevar of legend was known to possess a magical ring _

"I am a Sleeper, one among thousands." Fen suddenly felt a tight grip on her upper arm, and she stopped, dropping the notes in a puddle. She angrily turned to the man who had stopped her and saw it was a tall Dunmer in a faded robe. His eyes looked oddly blank, and he did not release her arm. "I bring you a message. Dagoth Ur calls you, Princess Fenara, and you cannot deny your Lord. The Sixth House is risen, and Dagoth is its glory." Fen felt her heart skip a beat.

"How do you know who I am?" she hissed, trying to tug her arm out of his grip, but he held fast.

"Dagoth Ur is the Lord, and Father of the Mountain. He sleeps, but when he wakes, we shall rise from our dreams, shall sweep our land clean of the n'wah. Why have you denied him? As Lord Dagoth has said. 'All shall greet him as flesh, or as dust.'"

"Let go of me, or I'll call the guards," Fen snarled, but he spoke over her again.

"The Sixth House, the Sleeping House, House Dagoth, the House of Lord Dagoth! The true house, the one house to welcome all true Dunmer, and drive the n'wah from our land. Rejoice, and join us. Come to Red Mountain, and prepare the way for his coming!" Then, quite suddenly, he let go of her arm and turned, striding away as if nothing had happened. Fen stared after her for a moment, rubbing her arm confusedly. He had clearly been raving mad. But he had known she was a princess…and he knew her real name. The thought unnerved her, and she glanced around, wondering how many other people in Balmora knew of her identity.

She bent over to pick up the notes and shook the water off them, hoping the ink hadn't smeared too badly. She stood up again and looked back to where the robed man had disappeared, a thought striking her. Could it have been a coincidence, this madman stopping her in the street and shouting about the Sixth House?

Trying to shake off the disturbing feeling that lingered, she continued towards Caius' house, looking back down at the now-damp notes.

_a magical ring named "One-Clan-Under-Moon-and-Star," upon which Nerevar is supposed to have sworn his promise to honor ancient Ashlander traditions and land rights._

_Second, the reference to "seven curses" must certainly refer to the lost prophetic verses known to the Ashlanders as The Seven Curses._

_**The Stranger**_

_When earth is sundered, and skies choked black_

_And sleepers serve the Seven Curses,_

_To the hearth there comes a stranger_

_Journeyed far 'neath moon and star._

_Though stark-born to sire uncertain_

_His aspects mark his certain fate,_

_Wicked stalk him, righteous curse him,_

_Prophets speak, but all deny._

_Many trials make manifest_

_The stranger's fate, the curse's bane_

_Many touchstones try the stranger,_

_Many fall, but one remains._

_**Lost Prophecies**_

_Ashlander elders complain of prophecies which have been lost to tribal memory due to the carelessness or ineptitude of earlier generations of wise women and ashkhans. Suspicious scholars wonder whether these prophecies might have been deliberately forgotten or suppressed. Three Nerevarine prophecies in particular are said to have been lost: 1. The Lost Prophecies; 2. The Seven Curses; and 3. Seven Visions of Seven Trials of the Incarnate. Perhaps these lost prophecies will someday be found, either in forgotten accounts written by literate travelers, or in the memories of isolated Ashlanders, or in the secret traditions of the wise women and shamans._

Fen looked up and realized she had stopped right in front of the door to Caius' house. She read the last few lines of the notes again, then looked back up at The Stranger. The verses felt oddly familiar, and she stared at them until a little Dunmer girl asked her what she was looking at.

Caius was pleased, albeit somewhat irritated, with the still dripping notes from Sharn.

"This is good," he said, flipping through the notes. "I'm promoting you to Blades Apprentice, Fen. Now, I need some time to go over these notes and send a report to the Emperor, so I don't have anything for you now. Go do some conditioning, or something, then report back in a few weeks."


	10. Chapter 10

Fen spent the following days doing chores for Skink-in-Tree's-Shade, an Argonian that took up residence in the Mages' Guild in Sadrith Mora. Edwinna had run out of jobs for her to do shortly after she had delivered the notes to Cosades and had sent her along to the guildhall there. Fen found that she missed going into the Dwemer ruins Edwinna sent her to, but Skink was much kinder than the other stewards she had encountered so far, and put her in no rush for any of the tasks he set her to.

One evening several weeks after Fen had delivered the skull, Skink asked her to deliver a soul gem to Edwinna in Ald'ruhn. Fen took the gem to Edwinna, then, as it was late and she was tired, decided to stay the night in her old room in the guildhall. She deposited her bag in the room and crossed the darkening street to the Ald Skar Inn, where she had usually taken her meals during her stay in Ald'ruhn. As was her usual routine, Fen propped open a book on the table before her and read while she ate, only looking up when she heard a voice above her.

"Pardon me, sera." Fen looked up to see an old Dunmer man standing by her table. His eyes looked heavy and his red hair was faded to gray in patches. By the look of his clothes, he was an Ashlander. "You have a look about you of someone on a journey. Would you be visiting the Ghostgate at all on your travels? I have a matter of personal interest there, and I seek a messenger. I can pay you for your trouble," he added hurriedly.

"What matter would that be?" she asked, closing her book. The man sat down at the seat opposite her.

"Well…ah, as this is a family concern, I shall keep things brief and to the point. I have a much loved daughter, whom I see far more rarely than I should like. The last time I saw her, she was most distressed, and begged me for my help in locating a friend of hers. She said that he was travelling to Red Mountain, and had to be stopped before he got himself killed."

"And what would you like me to do?" Fen still felt a little surprised that the man had approached her, of all people, especially since there was a heavyset Orc in full bonemold armor at the bar drinking quietly to himself.

"Well, if he is going to Red Mountain, then he will pass through the Ghostgate. If you are travelling there, then perhaps you might ask around and find out if anyone has seen him. There surely can't be too many ragged Ashlander youths heading onto the mountain alone. If you say you will do this, I will give you 200 drakes. That's all there is to it."

"Wouldn't you want to know if I find him?" she asked skeptically.

"No. In all honestly, I care not if you pocket the gold and never even go near the Ghostgate. I have never approved of this boy, and if he has indeed permanently disappeared from my daughter's life, then I would count it as a blessing. If I pay someone to make enquiries, then I have carried out the letter of my promise to her. Perhaps if no more is heard of the boy, she will give up hope, and return to her family, who love her as she deserves. But I have said too much. Will you take my money?" Fen studied his face, puzzled. Not many were willing to give up a large amount of gold for a reason whose outcome didn't matter to them. But she supposed there was no reason not to travel to Ghostgate. She had been meaning to see the fortress at some point, anyway.

"Alright," she said, and the man looked relieved. "I'll ask around Ghostgate and see what I find."

"Very good. Here is the gold." He counted out a few fifty-drake pieces from his money pouch and pushed them across the table to her. "What you do now is entirely your own affair. Even if you return with information, I doubt I shall be here to receive it, as I am leaving town shortly. But as I said, that is of no concern to me. Bless and be blessed, outlander." With that, the man stood up and left the bar. Fen looked down at the pieces, then slipped them into the pocket of her robe.

Early the next morning, she set out for Ghostgate. The skies were clear, showing no sign of an approaching ashstorm, and Fen walked idly, unbothered by the cliffracers that drifted lazily overhead. After about an hour, her head started to ache. The reason became apparent as she neared Ghostgate – a loud, deep humming emanated from the fortress, and Fen had always been sensitive to sound. Slowly, the Ghostfence loomed into view, and Fen had to stop for a moment to take in the splendor of it.

Ghostfence rose at least four stories high. There were enormous stone pylons supporting it at intervals, each carved with detailed depictions of the faces of the Tribunal at the top. The actual fence was comprised of a rippling forcefield that let off the loud humming. The view beyond the forcefield was distorted, but Fen could vaguely make out a landscape exactly the same as what was on the her side of the fence. There didn't seem to be anything remarkable about it.

Edwinna had once explained the concept of the Ghostfence to her. It was an enormous barrier that circled the entirety of the Red Mountain region, held up by the combined power of the Tribunal – the gods Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil. The fence was put up to contain Dagoth Ur and the Ash vampires, the creatures that served him. And if the power of the Tribunal were to fail, Edwinna had told her, the Sixth House beasts would be free to storm out across Vvardenfell.

The path went straight up to Ghostfence, then turned and moved alongside it, and Fen gazed up at it as she walked. The glimmering of the barrier started to hurt her eyes, though, and she looked back down at the road.

It was nearing midday when Fen reached Ghostgate, the small station that carried the only way into Ghostfence. She approached it from a distance, squinting against the brightness of the Ghostfence, and as she neared it, she saw bright flashes of what was clearly a fire spell just outside the gate. Fen frowned. The Ghostgate was a guarded area, and the only battling that should have been happening would be on the inside. She jogged the rest of the way to the gate to find that the flashes were spells being cast by a young Dunmer man that was surrounded by three clannfears, enormous reptilian Daedra that were viciously ripping at the man's shoddy-looking armor. As Fen watched, the man pulled out a sword, which one of the clannfears seized with its mouth and tossed away.

Thinking quickly, she summoned a scamp and ran forward to help. A few fire spells took down one of the clannfears, and she left the Dunmer to continue peppering a second with arrows while she began casting at the third. With the help of her scamp, the third clannfears fell, and she used her last bit of magicka to finish off the second. It fell dead among its fellows, the cheap chitin arrows portruding from its thick hide.

"Ah….greetings, outlander. I suppose I should thank you for your help with those clannfears, although I never asked for it. Everything was under control." Fen looked up. The man had a large gash across his shoulder that was bleeding freely, but he didn't seem to notice. She looked back down at the dead clannfears, and suddenly all the rage and frustration that had been building up in her sprang loose.

"Are you mad? They were making complete mincemeat out of you! For Azura's sake, look at that wound!"

"Ha!" he said brightly, swaying slightly on the spot. "I'll have you know I was just playing with them to train my skills. Then you come blundering in playing the hero and ruin it for me! Next time, keep out of it, all right?" Fen narrowed her eyes at him.

"I suppose you won't want healing either, since you're clearly too busy training your bleeding to death skill."

"Well, uh, actually – "

"No, no, it's fine!" Fen said, throwing her hands up in the air. "I can see you don't need any assistance. I'll let you carry on with your training. I'm sure some more Daedra will be along any minute!" She turned sharply and started back the way she'd come.

"Wait!" Fen turned sharply, glaring. He seemed to wither under her gaze. "All right. I apologize. I'm glad that you arrived when you did. You probably did save my life."

"Probably?" she repeated scathingly.

"All right! You definitely saved my life. Happy now? And...uh ...if you could heal me, I'd be very grateful. I seem to have run out of potions. And magicka. And...well, most things, really." For a moment, Fen was tempted to leave him there to deal with his troubles on his own, but after a second she sighed and found a healing potion in her bag.

"Here," she said, uncorking the bottle and handing it to him. He gingerly poured the potion out over his wound, which steamed as the skin cleanly stitched itself back together.

"This is embarrassing," he muttered, setting down the bottle. Fen did not speak, but raised one eyebrow, her arms crossed over her chest. The man sighed. "I'm trying to become a strong warrior," he explained. "But it seems I still have a long way to go. It's expected of me. But I spend all my time training, and I'm obviously still not good enough. Gah! What would my tribe think of me if they knew I had been rescued by an outlander? An _outlander_, for Azura's sake! I mean, no offense, but it looks bad." As much as she was trying to maintain a stony demeanor, Fen took pity on him.

"It's not that bad," she said, dropping her arms. "There were three of them."

"Thank you, but you don't understand... but how could you? You have no idea who I am, or what I have to do, and why."

"So tell me."

"It's not that simple!" he said indignantly. "It's not something I'm free to discuss, and certainly not with outlanders! All I will say is that I have a sacred mission I need to carry out within the Ghostfence on behalf of my tribe – and others. But I've been training around here for a week now, and I can't even deal with the monsters on this side of the fence! How can I hope to survive if I go inside?"

"If it's a sacred mission, shouldn't the gods be protecting you?"

"Ha. That's what my mother says. She has incredible faith – in the gods, and in me. That's why I have to succeed; I can't stand the thought of disappointing her. But I'm not sure I share her faith. Perhaps that's my problem." He shook his head, then looked at her again. And suddenly, his expression changed, as if seeing her clearly for the first time. "What did you say your name was?"

"Fen."

"You're stronger than me. And you say that your name is Fen, and you are a freelance adventurer."

"Or something like that," she muttered, but he ignored her.

"Tell me, Fen, do you ever adventure inside the Ghostfence?" She looked thoughtfully past him, where the path beyond Ghostgate stretched upward.

"I haven't yet," she said. "But it's been on my mind."

"I thought so – you're strong enough to deal with any of those ash monsters, or you soon will be. I wonder... would you be willing to help me develop my skills? Would you consider…training me?"

"Training you?" Fen said, taken aback.

"Sure!" he said quickly. "I can levitate, breathe water and heal myself – provided I have enough magicka, of course. I'm fast, agile, and I can repair your weapons for you, if you have the right tools. Gah! I'm an idiot!" he exclaimed suddenly, smacking himself in the forehead. "I still haven't introduced myself! My name is Julan Kaushibael, Hearthfriend of the Ahemmusa tribe. Well...sort of...I'm actually an outcast, but...uh...it's complicated." He stuck out his hand as if to shake. "So, what do you say, Fen? Do you think we'd make a good team?"

"Well…" Fen said reluctantly. She had never trained anyone before, let alone had someone follow her about. But Julan's eyes were hopeful as he gazed at her earnestly. "I don't know how good a teacher I'll be, but you're welcome to tag along for a bit." She took his hand, and they shook.

"Great! I have to admit, I was getting rather lonely hanging around here by myself. I'll let you take the lead, since I really don't know Vvardenfell all that well. In fact, this is the furthest I've ever been from home up until now. But...look...since we're here, can we try going within the Ghostfence? Not far, just inside the gate. I _have_ to get used to it, I just have to..."

"Sure," she said, glancing at the long, gated tunnel that led into Red Mountain. "How do we – "

"I've got it!" Julan said quickly, reaching past her and pressing a triangular button that stood on a short stone pylon outside the gate. There was a loud click and the first gate of two started to rise. "I guess – ah, I'll just follow you then," he said sheepishly, and Fen smiled slightly and passed him, pressing the next button to open the last gate. It clicked and rose up, and as Fen led them to the base of the mountain, the wind started to pick up and the skies turned a familiar dusty red. Lifting one arm to shield her eyes, Fen started to walk, trusting that Julan was behind her. She had barely gone three paces, however, when she heard him shouting her name over the wind.

"Fen! Um…I'm…" he drifted off.

"What is it, Julan?" Fen called, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

"I'm not ready for this!" he shouted, looking embarrassed. "Can I…can I just use a Divine Intervention scroll and get us both out of here?" Relieved, for the mountain had been giving her an ominous feeling, Fen nodded, and Julan fumbled with his pack and took out the scroll. There was a flash of light, then they were standing in the small courtyard of the Tribunal temple in Ald'ruhn.

"I...I'm sorry for what happened back there," Julan said, rubbing his neck. It was quiet in Ald'ruhn – evidently the ashstorm had not reached it yet. "Gods, you must think I'm an utter coward. But I swear this to you: I am a warrior. I have never run from a fight, and I do not fear death. I'm not afraid of the ash monsters on Red Mountain, it's something else...hard to explain. I think it's to do with these weird dreams I've been having..." Fen looked up quickly, remembering her dream of the golden-masked figure.

"What dreams?" she asked, hoping she wasn't the only one. She had had the same dream three nights in a row now.

"I often dream that I'm climbing Red Mountain, and it's dark, and the air is filled with ash, getting into my eyes and mouth, and it gets harder and harder to keep moving. And there are all these voices surrounding me, whispering things..."

"What kind of things?" Fen asked.

"I don't know. I can't understand what they are saying. But they sound... uh... not good. I mean, you've heard of Dagoth Ur, right? Even an outlander must know about him – the devil who lives under Red Mountain, yes? Who is supposed to make people go insane by sending them dreams?" Fen nodded. She was tempted to tell him right out that she wasn't the outlander everyone thought she was, but she held her tongue. "Dreams like that," he finished simply.

"Everyone has odd dreams sometimes, but they don't mean anything." _I wish I believed that, _she thought to herself.

"Of course. Dagoth Ur is a powerful figure in our history and legends - of course lots of people dream about him. It's nothing. I'm certainly not insane, and I'm not planning to be!"

"But…these dreams bother you so much you can't set foot on Red Mountain?"

"They aren't. I mean... they won't. I know it doesn't make sense. Just give me a little time, please. Maybe we could carry on with my training, I think I need to take my mind off things."

"Oh," Fen said. She had momentarily forgotten that she was going to be training Julan now. "Well…um…what are you good at?"

"Well…I've been doing archery all my life, I doubt there's much you could teach me there…"

"I'm a mage," Fen said quickly. "What are you good at magic-wise?"

"Oh. Well I'm best at restoration. You know, healing people. And I'm not bad in illusion or mysticism."

"How about destruction?" she asked.

"I could…work on that."

"Then why don't we have a go at that first?" Fen suggested, and they walked out of the courtyard. "We can use one of the spare rooms in the guildhall here, Edwinna won't mind."

"Wait, you're in the Mages' Guild?" Julan said, stopping. Fen nodded. "Ugh! I can't _stand _the Mages' Guild! Especially not the one here! I get lost in it every time. I keep running 'round and 'round the balcony, I always forget where the damn stairs are…" Julan continued into his tirade as they walked towards the guildhall, and Fen couldn't help but feel that perhaps her days wouldn't be quite as lonely now.


	11. Chapter 11

Edwinna reluctantly let Julan sleep in one of the empty rooms in the guildhall that night. He was still asleep the next morning, so Fen went to the Ald Skar Inn alone for breakfast. She had just sat down with her book when she heard a familiar voice.

"Fen! Hi!" She looked up and saw Gildan, the Bosmer Blades Trainer that she had met during her first week in Vvardenfell.

"Hi, Gildan," she said as the Bosmer sat down. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing much," she said with a grin. "But it looks like you are! Gods, you look great. When I first met you, you had this terrified look on your face like you just wanted to disappear!"

"Thanks, Gildan," Fen said wryly, and the elf continued.

"Anyway, Caius just sent me a message. He wants to see you as soon as possible." Out of the corner of her eye, Fen saw Julan enter the bar, looking exhausted. He came over to her table and sat down wordlessly, his sleepy eyes downcast. Gildan glanced from him to Fen, looking puzzled.

"Ah, Gildan, this is Julan. Julan, Gildan. Julan is…training with me for a while."

"Nice to meet you," Gildan said awkwardly. Julan didn't acknowledge this, but let his head fall down on the table with a solid _plunk. _"Well, ah, Fen, anyway, Caius needs you. And he sounded urgent."

"Alright. Thank you, Gildan." The Bosmer nodded and shot Julan one last inquisitive look, then stood up and went back to the bar.

"Um…Julan?"

"Do you always get up this early?" Julan muttered, his voice muffled due to his still being pressed up against the table.

"No one told you to come and meet me."

"Well what was I supposed to do?" he said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes furiously. "Just potter around the Mages' Guild making friends with all those crazy spellcasters? One of them would have turned me into a scrib or something!" Fen just rolled her eyes.

"I've got to go to Balmora today. I have a meeting with…someone. You're welcome to come." Fen had a strong feeling that she shouldn't tell Julan about being a member of the Blades, especially if he was an Ashlander. She had gathered that he seemed to oppose all forms of organized government.

"Fine. When are we leaving?"

"As soon as I'm finished here. You can go back to the guildhall if you want, Julan."

"No, no, I'll stay." He glanced over at the bar, where Gildan was sitting with a few pretty Dunmer girls. "Hey, can I borrow a few drakes, Fen? For a drink?"

"It's eight in the morning," Fen said, confused.

"So?"

"Fine," she said with a sigh, counting out four coins and handing them to him. "Here." Julan thanked her briefly and swaggered over to the bar with a sudden confident air. He sat down boldly in the middle of Gildan and her group of friends and ordered a drink, then turned to talk to one of them, a young Dunmer woman that was blushing profusely. When Fen was finished, she managed to drag Julan away from the bar and they went back to the guildhall. The guild guide, however, wasn't in her usual place by the platform.

"Good, I hate teleporting," Julan said as he followed Fen downstairs. "I feel like you're being pushed through a tube, or something."

"Edwinna," Fen said, finding the Breton woman downstairs talking to Anaranen. "Do you know where Erranil is? She's not by the platform."

"Oh, yes, Erranil ran off yesterday to get married without telling any of us, naturally. So now I've got to find a new guild guide at the drop of a hat…" She shook her head, irritated. "I'm afraid you'll have to take the silt strider to wherever you're going, Magician."

"Excellent!" Julan said excitedly. "I've never ridden one of those, I've always wanted to."

"They aren't that great," Fen assured him as they left the guildhall and climbed the silt strider platform. She already felt nauseous.

"You look a bit green," Julan said as they sat down in the hollowed-out shell of the silt strider. "You all right?"

"I'm not good with silt striders," Fen said, clutching at the wall as the giant insect started to walk with a mighty lurch. She felt bile rising in her throat and pressed her hand to her mouth. "I think I'll sit a bit nearer to the opening," she said, scooting up slightly.

They reached Balmora in a few hours (after Fen had vomited twice during the trip). Fen, who had always found the town to be rather dumpy and unremarkable, started down the platform immediately, but Julan remained where he was, staring at all the flat-roofed buildings and the low bridges over the river canal.

"Fen," he said, coming down the stairs to meet her. "Do I seem like a complete savage to you?"

"What?" Fen said, taken aback by the question. "No, of course not!"

"I know how people view Ashlanders – violent, uncivilized barbarian tribes, living in filth and squalor, obsessed with ancient superstitions." Fen said nothing, as she had grown up in Mournhold around exactly that kind of talk. "You settled types with your luxurious lifestyles, you can't understand why we might _choose_ to live as we do, so you think we must be ignorant savages," Julan continued earnestly. "But we are proud of our culture. We have things more valuable than the tasteless displays of wealth you get in cities like this."

"Well…living simply can certainly make you appreciate life, I suppose." Fen inwardly laughed at the absurdity of the statement. She would have given anything to be back in Mournhold at that moment.

"Exactly! You're more open-minded than many people – perhaps because you're an outlander. How strange that you seem to understand me better than most native Dunmer! But your view is rare, my people are viewed with suspicion in the cities. And although I'm proud of my heritage, my mission must be kept secret, and I worry that I look too conspicuous. What do you think?"

"I honestly don't care what you wear, Julan. But…" Fen's eyes lingered over the one dented pauldron on his shoulder, the mud-covered boots, the rusty sword at his hip. "You could do with some decent equipment."

"Hmm... Perhaps that would be a good idea. Also, tell me – is it normal practice to remove armor in cities? Look, I have no idea about these things, so I'll just let you decide what would be best. But if you make me look ridiculous, I'll never forgive you!"

"Fine," she said with a smile. "We can go up by the Fighter's Guild and get you some armor. I trust them more than Meldor, anyway, the last sword I bought there lasted me about a day."

"And…um, Fen? Is this armor going to be like…a gift?"

"You haven't got any money, have you?" Fen asked dryly.

"I'll pay you back!" Julan said quickly. "I swear!"

"It's fine," Fen replied, leading the way into the Fighter's Guild. When they left, Julan was more appropriately outfitted in well-made steel armor with a Dwemer jinkblade. "I'll see if I can't find a better bow anywhere," she said as they crossed the river.

"Great," Julan said, examining his new blade. A passing guard shot him a dirty look. "What's his problem?" he whispered to Fen.

"The trade of Dwemer artifacts is technically illegal," she answered. "But they can't persecute you if you bought it off someone else." They stopped outside Caius' door. "Julan, the business I have to do here is something that I'm not sure other people should know about –"

"Well we won't know until we go in!" he said brightly, and he boldly pushed open the door and strode inside. Fen quickly followed him. Caius Cosades was sitting at his table smoking skooma and looking dazed. When they entered, he tossed away the pipe and stood up, scowling.

"Fen," he said sharply, glaring at Julan. "I'm not giving you orders if you have your friends following you about. Leave him outside, and we'll talk." Fen turned to Julan, who was glowering at Caius.

"So you can't deal with your sneaky business with me around, eh?" Julan snapped before Fen could speak. "Fine, but don't expect me to wait on the curb like a dog. I'll be in the Cornerclub down there. You can come get me when you're done with your 'secret mission' or whatever." He opened the door and left, slamming it a little louder than necessary.

"Now then," Caius said immediately, and Fen reluctantly turned back to him. "I've thought it over, and I want you to interview three informants in Vivec City concerning the Nerevarine and the Sixth House. First, I want you to speak with Addhiranirr, a Khajiit Thieves Guild operative. Second, I want you to speak with Huleeya, an Argonian in the Morag Tong. Finally, I want you to speak with Mehra Milo, a Temple priestess. Here. I've written the details down, so you won't forget. And here are 200 drakes. For bribes and other expenses." He handed her four fifty-drake pieces and a sheet of parchment. "Now, Addhiranirr is a Khajiit, and a Thieves Guild operative. You'll find her in St. Olms Canton in Vivec. Be careful what you say, and use common sense. People in the cantons are suspicious of outsiders; you may have to win... or purchase... their confidence.

"Huleeya is an Argonian and a Morag Tong assassin. You'l find him in Vivec, at the Black Shalk Cornerclub in the Lower Waistworks of the Foreign Quarter. In addition to his other skills, Huleeya is also known around Vivec City as a student of history and a lover of books and old things.

"And Mehra Milo…" a dreamy look came over Caius' eyes, one that had nothing to do with the skooma. "Mehra Milo is a Temple priestess who works in the libraries at the Hall of Wisdom and Justice. She's a friend, so be careful, and don't get her in trouble. The Temple is suspicious of outlanders, and wouldn't be happy to find Mehra talking with you about religious matter. She'll be easy to spot. Look for the priestess with the copper hair and copper eyes." With that, Caius waved her out of his house, and she went down the street to find Julan. The South Wall Cornerclub was just as unpleasant as it had been upon her arrival, and Fen found Julan fairly easily, for he was the one making the most noise in the bar.

"Oh, hi Fen!" he shouted loudly when she entered. "E'rybody, this is my friend –" he hiccupped "– Fen. Fen's a mage. Tha's….tha's neat, innit?" He scrambled over to her and put one arm around her, then stood, swaying slightly on the spot. "Oh!" he said suddenly. "I'm – hic – _mad _at you! I forgot! Because – because your druggy friend wouldn't let me stay in his house! But I've got my eye on your druggy friend, Fen – hic – I'm washing him – watching I mean…ha, ha…"

"Okay, Julan," Fen said firmly, taking hold of his arm and supporting him as she left the bar and went outside and thinking it was rather remarkable that he had managed to get drunk so quickly. She planted him firmly down on a crate just outside the Cornerclub, where he sat giggling uncontrollably. She had a feeling it was a bad idea to take him on a silt strider, so she managed to get two rooms at the Eight Plates for the night.

Fen woke before the sun had risen again the next morning and managed to get Julan up. He complained under his breath of a headache the whole way the Mages' Guild, and Fen pointedly ignored his mutterings.

"What are we doing again?" Julan said, rubbing his eyes as they went down to the atrium of the guildhall.

"We're going to Vivec," Fen answered. "Caius has some people he wants me to interview."

"About what?" Julan asked skeptically. Fen hoped she might avert this question, since they had just stepped onto the guild guide platform, but once they were teleported to Vivec he posed it again. "What are you interviewing these people about?" Fen figured it was best not to lie, and answered him, resigned.

"The Sixth House cult and the Nerevarine prophecies." Julan's face unexpectedly drained of color.

"Why – why does he want you to interview people about that?" he asked.

"I don't know," Fen said, sparing him a curious glance before leading the way out of the guildhall and into the Foreign Quarter Plaza. "He needs the information for something, I suspect." She took the folded sheet of parchment Caius had given her out of her bag and flipped it open. "Right," she said, scanning it quickly. "We might as well find Huleeya first. He'll be in this canton."

"Who's Huleeya?" Julan asked, looking rather sick.

"An Argonian who – Julan, are you all right?"

"Fine," he said, clearing his throat and straightening up. "Who is he again? An Argonian?"

"He's a Morag Tong assassin," Fen said curiously as they started towards the large doors that led out onto the outdoor balustrades of the canton. "A scholar. He should know about the Nerevarine prophecies."

"An Argonian in the Morag Tong?" Julan said, looking bemused. "Your pal Caius has interesting friends."

"Yes, well, we're going to the Black Shalk Cornerclub to look for him." Julan's face lit up.

"A Cornerclub?"

"We're not staying."

They found the Cornerclub down a short hallway and let themselves in. It was rather dim inside, and there were few people about, since it was just now seven thirty in the morning. The barkeep was wiping bottles with a dirty rag and yawning, while three muscular Dunmer men were clustered in a corner. There didn't seem to be anyone else around.

"I don't see him," Julan said, glancing around the bar. Fen approached the yawning barkeep.

"Excuse me," she said, and he looked up at her with bleary eyes. "Was there an Argonian man in here recently?"

"Looking for Huleeya?" he said in a low voice. Fen nodded, and the man gestured vaguely to the three Dunmer men. "I'd come back another time. I don't think they'll let him leave for a while."

"What do you – ?" Fen started, but she broke off as she heard the characteristic reptilian voice of an Argonian from behind the Dunmer.

"Leave me be, serjo. I've cost you no harm."

"Running around with those filthy lizard feet all over our city? That's harmful, n'wah," one of the Dunmer said, and the other two laughed. Fen and Julan exchanged a glance.

"E – excuse me," Fen said, approaching the Dunmer despite Julan's frantic head shaking. They turned around almost simultaneously, and Fen saw, to her discomfort, that they all looked very hardened and powerful.

"Can I help you, sera?" one with a full beard and a scar across his cheek said, dropping the harsh tone he had been using with Huleeya and adopting an equally unpleasant oily one that hinted at sarcastic respect.

"Drop the act, Favel," one of them said, pushing the one who had spoken aside. "You won't want to talk to him, darling, I'm _far _more charming."

"Hey!" Julan said suddenly from behind her, pushing Fen aside. "Shut your mouth, or I'll shut it for you!"

"Who are you, her boyfriend?" one of the men sneered as Fen seized Julan's arm to keep him from leaping at the man.

"You could do better than that, sera," another one said, and they all laughed.

"I'd like a word with Huleeya, please," Fen said coldly. "So if you'll move."

"Oh, you want to talk to the filthy lizard?" said the tallest man, who had unpleasantly greasy hair and a broken nose. "That's too bad. If you want to talk to him, you'll have to go past us. And we don't like fighting ladies, but if you want to talk to the filthy lizard, then maybe we'll have to."

"Don't fight, please," Huleeya said firmly from behind them.

"Shut up, lizard!" snapped the one with the scar, who turned around and promptly kneed Huleeya in the stomach. The Argonian doubled over and the men chuckled.

"Leave him be," Fen said angrily. "He's done nothing to you."

"Filthy lizards don't deserve to walk free, miss," the one with the broken nose said, crossing his arms. "You're from Morrowind, aren't you? You ought to know that." Suddenly frustrated, Fen reached out and snatched the neck of the broken-nosed Dunmer's armor. She pulled it down, level with her own face, and held her fingers inches away from his forehead, a frost spell visibly dancing on their tips.

"Leave him be," she snarled again. "I haven't got time to deal with you, but I will if I have to." For one tense moment, they glared into each other's eyes, Julan and the other two men looking nervously around. Then the broken-nosed Dunmer screwed up his face irritably.

"Fine! We'll let the filthy lizard go!" Fen thrust his face away from her and the Dunmer backed away, glowering at her.

"Huleeya," Fen said, gesturing for him to follow, and he straightened up and went with Julan and Fen out of the Cornerclub. "Are you all right?" Fen asked him once they were outside in the busy lower Waistworks and the door had slammed behind them.

"Yes," Huleeya said, offering her a small smile. "Thank you for being rid of those troublesome fools. You said you wanted a word with me, I believe?"

"I work with Caius Cosades," Fen said. She was quickly learning that these words could get people to answer her when they were more reluctant to. "I have some questions about the Nerevarine cult."

"Ah," Huleeya said simply. "Let us go to my friend's bookstore on the opposite side of the Waistworks, where we may speak freely." He led them down another corridor lined with shops and down the end of the hall, to a door with a banner emblazoned with an open book on it. "We should be free of distraction here," Huleeya said, entering the bookstore and going into a small front room lined with shelves that were crowded with books. "Now, you wish to know about the Nerevarine cult?" Fen nodded. "To understand the Nerevarine cult, you must understand the history of the Ashlanders.

"Nerevar means something very different to the Ashlanders from what he means to Dunmer of the Great Houses. You should also know about the persecution of the Nerevarine, and the legacy of the False Incarnate, for the Nerevarine cult is at the heart of the ancient conflict between the nomadic Ashlanders and the settled Great House Dunmer." He reached into the pocket of his pants and found a small folded bit of parchment. "Here is a summary for Caius, but ask your questions, and I'll answer in detail."

"Can you tell me about the Nerevarine?" Fen asked. Julan flinched beside her. She gave him a quizzical glance, then looked back at Huleeya.

"When the Ashlanders joined Nerevar in the Battle of Red Mountain, he swore on his great Ring, One-Clan-Under-Moon-and-Star, to honor the ways of the Spirits and rights of the Land. But after the victory, Ashlanders say the power-hungry Tribunal slew Nerevar in secret. Then, setting themselves up as gods, the Tribunal and the Great Houses forgot Nerevar's promises to the Tribes. Ashlanders say Nerevar will come again with his ring, cast down the false gods, and make good his promises to the Tribes."

"And what about the Ashlanders? You said I should understand their history."

"Yes. Everyone should be familiar with a culture before they pass judgment. In the First Era, the nomadic Ashlanders and the settled Dunmer clans were much alike, but after the First Council and the formation of the Great Houses, Ashlanders have been steadily forced into the poorest and most hostile lands. Now the nomadic tribes look to the prophesied return of Nerevar for a restoration of their ancient rights and religious traditions."

"And what of the persecution of the Nerevarine?"

"The Temple treats the Nerevarine prophecies as heresy, and the Temple imprisons and executes heretics, unless prevented by Imperial law. But, since the Nerevarine cult is hostile to the Empire, the Empire does not interfere when Temple persecutes the cult. Ashlanders hate the Temple, and particularly the Ordinators, for their ruthless treatment of Nerevarine cultists."

"And do you know anything about the – the Sixth House cult?" Huleeya gave her a quizzical look.

"I've never heard of such a thing. House Dagoth was the Sixth House, but in the War of the First Council, they betrayed the other Great Houses, and were destroyed for their treason. But I've never heard of anyone worshipping them. Dagoth Ur, the ancient head of House Dagoth, is the Devil of the Tribunal faith, but I've never heard of anyone worshipping him, either.

"Did you have any more questions?"

"No," Fen said. "But thank you for your help."

"And the same to you, sera," Huleeya said, and he offered her a short bow before wandering down to the lower part of the bookstore.

"Gods, Fen," Julan said as they left the bookstore and walked back through the Waistworks. "I didn't know you could threaten people like that."

"It was kind of an instinctive thing, I suppose," Fen muttered, embarrassed.

"It was fantastic!" Julan said enthusiastically. "I would have just punched the fetcher in the face, then probably gotten arrested or beaten up. But they were scared of you!"

"Right," Fen answered. Somehow she didn't feel like this was a compliment. "We need to go to the St. Olms canton now. It'll be 'round the other side of the city by the temple canton."

"The temple," Julan scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I still can't believe they built a whole city in honor of a false god." A passing Ordinator shot Julan a nasty look. Fen glanced sideways at him.

"The Tribunal aren't false gods." Julan actually stopped in the middle of the hall to stare at her, openmouthed.

"Fen!" he said incredulously, jogging to catch up to her, for she had continued walking. "_Please _don't tell me the Temple's brainwashed you too!"

"I've lived in Mournhold all my life," she said firmly. "Almalexia, at least, is not a false god." Julan could only stare, dumbfounded, as they went down to the lowest level of the canton and took a gondola to the Temple canton. They walked from there to St. Olms, which was a working-class district that was mostly comprised of foul-smelling slums built into the walls.

"I can't believe people call Ashlanders savages when they live in this muck," Julan said scornfully, quickly sidestepping to avoid a clump of rats fighting over a rotted piece of rat meat on the ground. Fen hastily found the right door into the Waistworks of the St. Olms canton, which consisted of a dark set of corridors crowded with people that wore dress in all ranges of shabbiness. Fen thought (uncomfortably so) that she and Julan might be the people that stood out the most, and her thoughts were confirmed as they moved through the thicket of people. Many of them, mostly Dunmer, would turn to stare as they moved past.

"In here," Fen said, grabbing Julan's arm and pulling him into an empty hallway. "We're never going to find her in this mess."

"So ask somebody," Julan suggested.

"I have a feeling none of these people will want to tell us," Fen muttered as an exhausted-looking Dunmer woman pushed past them with a basket of rags.

"Do you have a hundred drakes, Fen?"

"Yes," Fen said, startled by this question. "Why – ?"

"Can I borrow it?" Fen gave him a confused look, then took two fifty-drake pieces from her purse and handed them to Julan.

"Right," he said confidently. "Leave this to me." And with that, he sauntered back into the moving throng of people. Fen had leaned against the wall, hoping he wasn't planning on doing something illegal, when she felt a hand clutch her shoulder. Fen turned sharply and saw an Dunmer woman there, so old that she looked as if a single gust of wind could turn her to dust, though this did not seem to affect her bright orange hair, which was tied away from her face in a sloppy bun.

"Beneath Red Mountain, Lord Dagoth sleeps," she said in a harsh, raspy voice. "But when he wakes, we all shall rise, and the dust will blow away. Serve your Lord, Dagoth Ur. The Sixth House is risen, and Dagoth is its glory."

"Who are you?" Fen demanded, stepping away from her. The old woman's hand dropped feebly from Fen's shoulder.

"The Sixth House, the Sleeping House, House Dagoth, the House of Lord Dagoth!" she shouted, starting to back away from Fen and pointing a quivering finger at her as she did. Her glassy eyes were wide and blank. "Do not defy him, Princess, for all shall greet him as flesh, or as dust!" Fen's stomach dropped and the woman turned and walked away with surprising speed. Another person rambling to her about the Sixth House, another person who knew that she was a princess.

"Got it!" Fen jumped at the sound of Julan's voice behind her, and she turned to see him grinning triumphantly. "Addhiranirr's in the canalworks, but she won't come out until we get rid of a tax agent up there that's looking for her."

"What've you done with my gold?" Fen asked, but Julan pointedly ignored this question and led the way back into the main room of the Waistworks. They located the Census and Excise agent, a troubled-looking Imperial man wearing a full silk skirt with a netch leather cuirass. Fen elbowed Julan sharply to silence his fits of laughter at the agent's attire and approached him.

"Excuse me," she said, and he looked around at her. "Are you looking for someone?"

"Ah, yes," he said, relaxing slightly, not realizing that Fen clearly didn't belong in the St. Olms canton and, in actuality, would probably have no idea on how he would find someone there. "A Khajiit, actually. Friend of mine. Do you know Addhiranirr?"

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Fen said, hoping she sounded regretful. "You've only just missed her. She took a boat to the mainland."

"I see," the agent said, his expression turning irritated. "I was just heading there myself. Thank you for your help, madam." He turned and went toward the exit, shaking his head, his silk skirt rippling as he walked.

"What a fetcher," Julan said, still chuckling. They found their way down to the canalworks, which were, Fen was displeased to discover, simply a more sophisticated name for a sewer.

"It smells worse than outside," Julan said, hopping down from the ladder that led down to the long, dark room. Fen stepped off the last rung and glanced around. There were narrow stone walkways on either side of a long pool of greenish-brown water, bridged by occasional stone paths. Julan was right about the smell – a combination of sour-smelling urine and rotted meat hung in the air.

"Well, I can't imagine there'd be too many people down here," Fen said, casting a light spell on herself to brighten the dimness of the sewer. "Can you see all right?" Julan nodded and they set off, circling the long pool of foul-smelling water until they were back where they started.

"Let's try down this way," Julan suggested, peering down an enormous circular tunnel that carried water to a different chamber.

"There's no walkway," Fen said, glancing into the tunnel. "Where are we supposed to walk? I'm not splashing through this muck."

"Aren't you a mage?" Julan asked dryly, and Fen shot him a glare and cast a water walking spell, her feet stepping on the slimy surface of the water rather than in it. The tunnel curved around once and let out in a chamber identical to the last one, only there was a young Khajiit woman lounging against the wall here, picking at her claws.

"Addhiranirr?" Fen said as they approached her. The Khajiit tensed, reaching instinctively for a dagger on her belt. "I'm working with Caius Cosades," Fen said quickly, and Addhiranirr relaxed. "He sent me to ask you a few questions about the Sixth House cult." The Khajiit smiled slightly, amused.

"Indeed, Addhiranirr is very glad to see you, and very happy to tell a friend of my good friend Caius all about the Sixth House cult. And Addhiranirr knows nothing about the Nerevarine, but Addhiranirr is happy to tell you that, too, if it makes Caius happy."

"What about the Nerevarine, then?" Addhiranirr chuckled.

"Addhiranirr knows nothing about this Nerevarine cult, because it is just silly superstition. So you tell Caius this. Nobody in her right mind pays any attention to this nonsense. Prophecies and ancient heroes reborn and other silliness. Fuzzy tales for little kitties." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "But Addhiranirr can tell you much about the Sixth House cult, because it is about smuggling. Some smart smugglers are suddenly too busy for their old clients, because they have a new employer, the Sixth House, who pays _very_ well. But what do they smuggle now? Addhiranirr doesn't know, because they are very secret. And this is odd, because these smugglers are always loud and bragging, and now they hush up like fat-bellied kitties full of sweet-meats."

"Is that all?" Fen asked, disappointed. She had been hoping for more historic information about the Sixth House from the Khajiit.

"What more does this one want?" Addhiranirr demanded. "You come, say 'Tell me about the Sixth House,' and Addhiranirr tells. What else can she do?"

"Alright," Fen said quickly, seeing the Khajiit was agitated. "Thank you for your help. We'll be going."

"Well that was a waste of time," Julan whispered as they went back they way they'd come. "What did she tell us that was useful?"

"Cosades will be able to make something of it, I'm sure," Fen muttered. They reached the ladder and climbed out of the sewers, then pushed out of the Waistworks and finally managed to get outside.

"Gods," Julan muttered, rubbing his hands on his pants. "I'm going to smell like shit for weeks."

"Yes," Fen muttered distractedly, pulling out Caius' notes again and reading over the last paragraph. "Mehra Milo. She's right over here, in the Temple canton. A priestess."

"We're looking for a Temple priestess for information about the Nerevarine cult? Ha! I'm sure she can tell us lots about how they torture and kill anyone who so much as mentions it!"

"Will you calm yourself down long enough for me to talk to her?" Fen asked sharply. "Just let me speak, if you would."

"Right, because I'm an uneducated Ashlander. I forgot."

"I just don't want her getting offended by your ranting and suddenly have her not want to talk to me!" Fen said hotly, and they quieted suddenly as they came to the door to the Hall of Wisdom, where the Library of Vivec was located and where an Ordinator stood watch, glaring at them from inside his helmet. He stood aside for them to enter, and they found themselves in a cool, dimly-lit corridor.

"I think it's this way," Fen said in a hushed tone. The corridor was the same Velothi-style architecture as the rest of Vivec, but it somehow elicited a kind of proud sophistication that demanded respect. They climbed a short flight of stairs and found themselves at a simple door with _LIBRARY OF VIVEC _carved into the wood. Fen pushed the door open and they stood in a simple, low-ceilinged room lined with shelves that showed endless spines of old books. There were a few dark wooden tables set up in a clear area, where scholars sat examining the great dusty volumes.

"Is that her?" Julan whispered, gesturing to a tall Dunmer woman in a rich purple robe that was standing by one of the unoccupied tables, carefully applying binding glue to a book that seemed to have fallen apart. Fen approached her warily.

"Pardon me," she said, and the woman looked up. She was much younger than Fen had been expecting, her coppery-red hair bound up on her head in an elegant twist.

"Caius sent you?" the woman said at once, and Fen nodded, surprised. Mehra Milo glanced over her shoulder, where an Ordinator stood a few paces away, watching her carefully. "Follow me to the back of the library," she whispered, on the pretense of examining the book she was mending. "We can't talk here." Mehra straightened up and walked promptly down a short corridor to another book-filled room, saying loudly, "Oh, yes, the birth certificates are right over here." Mehra opened a door at the back of the library and let them into what looked like a small office that had a desk and a few tables heaped with damaged books.

"Go ahead," Mehra said, shutting the door behind them. "I'm afraid I don't know about any Sixth House cult, but I can tell you about the Nerevarine cult."

"How did you know – ?" Fen started, and she smiled.

"Caius sent me a messenger to tell me you were coming. You have to be careful in Vivec these days, especially if you are a priest, and he wanted me to be on the look out." Mehra lit a lamp on the desk and the dark room flared into life.

"What can you tell me about the Nerevarine cult, then?" Fen asked.

"The Temple worships Nerevar as a saint and hero, but prophecies of his reincarnation are punished as wicked heresy. The Nerevarine cult claims the Tribunal are false gods, hence the Temple's persecution of the Nerevarine cult. A group called the Dissident Priests disputes Temple doctrine on the Nerevarine prophecies. The proscribed book _Progress of Truth_ describes their beliefs. Get a copy of _Progress of Truth_ for Caius Cosades. That will tell him things he needs to know about the Nerevarine cult.

"The Dissident priests dispute Temple doctrine, and are outlawed and persecuted by the Temple. Ordinators arrest and imprison heretics, and the Empire cannot interfere. In brief, they challenge the purity and divinity of the Tribunal, suggesting their powers are sorcerous, not divine, and perhaps akin to the powers of Dagoth Ur. They also condemn the arbitrary power of the Ordinators, and accuse the Temple hierarchy of self-interest and corruption."

"Is that why the Temple persecutes them?"

"The Temple persecutes the Dissident Priests because attacks on the Temple weaken the faith, and leave the people defenseless against the influence of Dagoth Ur. Faith is what strengthens the will of the believer against Dagoth Ur's lies. Faith is the source of the divine power that sustains the Tribunal in their battle with Dagoth Ur. Since the Empire, some Dunmer have turned away from the Temple; that's why Dagoth Ur grows stronger, why blight storms and monsters threaten the land."

"And what about the persecution of the Nerevarine?"

"It's an Ashlander cult – primitive superstition, says the Temple. Nerevarines say the Tribunal are false gods." Julan coughed loudly, and Mehra glanced at him briefly, then went on. "I've never understood why the Temple wastes so much energy on them. The faithful cannot be shaken by such attacks, and the Ashlanders are just ignorant savages. But since the submission of the Temple to the Empire, and the erosion of faith among the Dunmer, the militant wing of the Temple is increasingly fierce in its attacks on heretics and heathens."

"Thank you," Fen started to say, but Mehra quickly placed a hand on the door, stopping them.

"I do not care for Temple politics. But I have read _Progress of Truth_, and it troubles me. I have friends, former priests, who have gone into hiding, so I am bound to come to the attention of the Ordinators. I am careful, but I'm afraid. I'm no secret agent, like you or Caius." Her face was drawn, tired-looking. "Sooner or later I, too, must go into hiding. If it is not too late. When you return to Caius, tell him I am worried, and that if something goes wrong, I will leave a message under the agreed code word _amaya_." Fen nodded grimly, and Mehra pulled open the door, flooding the small office with the light that burned in the candles in the library.

"Thank you," Fen said again, and Mehra waved her away, looking tired. "See, Julan?" Fen said as they left the Hall of Wisdom and came outside. The sky was growing dark overhead. "Mehra wasn't a complete idiot, was she?"

"She's a Temple priestess, yet she's opened her eyes to what's happening, and is trying to find the truth!" Julan said, and he looked oddly excited by this. "I really respect her for that. Those Ordinators better leave her alone! We should get a copy of that _Progress of Truth_ book she recommended."

"Yes," Fen said, glancing up at the sky, where stars were appearing. "We can stop by the bookstore where we left Huleeya and pick it up, then take the guild guide back to Balmora." She found the book Mehra had described, a thin volume with a faded cloth cover, and read it as she and Julan walked back up to the Foreign Quarter Plaza.

_**1. The Divinity of the Tribunal**_

_Temple doctrine claims their apotheosis was miraculously achieved through questing, virtue, knowledge, testing, and battling with Evil; Temple doctrine claims their divine powers and immortality are ultimately conferred as a communal judgment by the Dunmer ancestors [including, among others, the Good Daedra, the prophet Veloth, and Saint Nerevar]. Dissident Priests ask whether Dagoth Ur's powers and the Tribunal powers might ultimately derive from the same source - Red Mountain. Sources in the Apographa suggest that the Tribunal relied on profanely enchanted tools to achieve godhead, and that those unholy devices were the ones originally created by the ungodly Dwemer sorcerer Kagrenac to create the False Construct Numidium._

_**2. The Purity of the Tribunal**_

_The Dissident Priests say that the Temple has always maintained a public face [represented by the Heirographa - the "priestly writings"] and a hidden face [represented by the Apographa - the "hidden writings"]. The public account portrays the actions of the Tribunal in a heroic light, while the hidden writings reveal secrets, untruths, inconsistencies, conflicting accounts and varying interpretations which hint at darker and less heroic motives and actions of the Tribunes. In particular, conflicting accounts of the battle at Red Mountain raise questions about the Tribunal's conduct, and about the source of their subsequent apotheosis. Also, there is good evidence that the Tribunal have been concealing the true nature of the threat posed by Dagoth Ur at Red Mountain, misleading the people about the Tribunal's ability to protect Morrowind from Dagoth Ur, and concealing a recent dramatic diminishing of the Tribunal's magical powers._

_**3. Temple Accounts of the Battle of Red Mountain**_

_Ashlander tradition does not place the Tribunal at Red Mountain, and holds that the Dwemer destroyed themselves, rather than that Nerevar destroyed them. Ashlander tradition further holds that Nerevar left Dagoth Ur guarding the profane secrets of Red Mountain while Nerevar went to confer with the Grand Council [i.e., the Tribunal], that Nerevar died at the conference [not of his wounds, according to the Ashlanders, but from treachery], and that subsequently the Tribunal confronted a defiant Dagoth Ur within Red Mountain, then drove Dagoth Ur beneath Red Mountain when he would not yield to their will._

"You're going to trip if you keep reading that," Julan said suddenly, jerking her out of her reverie. She had nearly run into an old man hobbling past, she had been so focused on the book before her. But, disregarding Julan, she hastily continued to read.

_**4. Veneration of the Daedra, Saints, and Ancestors**_

_While challenging the divinity of the Tribunal, the Dissidents do not challenge the sainthood or heroism of the Tribunal. In fact, the Dissident Priests advocate restoring many of the elements of Fundamentalist Ancestor Worship as practiced by the Ashlanders and by Saint Veloth. Exactly how this would work is debated inconclusively within the Dissident Priests._

_**5. Denial of the Prophecies of the Incarnate, Persecution of the Nerevarine**_

_Though no consensus exists among the Dissidents about whether the Nerevarine prophecies are genuine, all agree that the persecution of the Nerevarines is unjust and politically motivated. The Dissident Priests do not reject mysticism, revelation, or prophecy as part of the religious experience. The Dissidents have not resolved the issue of true or false insights. They have studied the mysticism of the Ashlander Ancestor Cults, in particular the rites of the Ashlander seers and wise women, and the prophecies of the Incarnate. Many among the Dissident Priests have come to believe that the Nerevarine prophecies are genuine, and have made a systematic study of prophecies recorded in Temple archives._

_**6. Authority of the Archcanon and the Ordinators**_

_The Dissident Priests reject the authority of the Archcanon and the Ordinators. The temple hierarchy has been corrupted by self-interest and politics, and no longer acts in the best interests of the Temple or its worshippers. The Dissident Priests believe the Archcanon and Ordinators speak for themselves, not for the Tribunal._

_**7. The Inquisition and the Use of Terror by the Ordinators**_

_Within the Temple hierarchy it is an open secret that the Ordinators rely on abduction, terror, torture, and secret imprisonment to discourage heresy and dissent. The Dissident Priests feel the Ordinators are either out of control, or tools used to maintain a corrupt priesthood in power._

_**8. Fundamentals of the Temple Doctrine – Charity for the Poor, Education for the Ignorant, Protection for the Weak**_

_Though the Dissident Priests acknowledge that most rank-and-file priests honor the best traditions of the Temple, they believe that many priests in higher ranks are interested more in love of authority and luxury than in the welfare of the poor, weak, and ignorant._

"Fen!" She looked up, suddenly aware that they were standing on the teleportation platform by the guild guide in Vivec. She closed the book on the final statement and paid for passage to Balmora. "Well?" Julan asked as they made their way out of the guildhall. "What's in that book that's so troubling to Mehra Milo?"

"The last few just talk about the Temple being corrupt," Fen said, turning the book over in her hands as Julan made a noise of approval. "But the other ones…they agree with you, Julan. These 'Dissident Priests.' They say the Tribunal are false gods."

"Because it's true," Julan said simply, and Fen decided not to argue with him. _Progress of Truth _was certainly in agreement with Julan, but how true was it? Thinking back, Fen realized that all the things she had found out about the Nerevarine and the Sixth House fit together with _Progress of Truth – _they all gave the same message.

_What do you care? _she thought to herself suddenly. Working for Cosades was only a job to pass the time after she was banished. It wasn't something that should be taken too deeply. _It has nothing to do with me,_ she told herself firmly. _Nothing at all._


	12. Chapter 12

"Let's see," Caius said, stumbling over to his lockbox holding Huleeya's notes and _Progress of Truth. _"I have your report, and I'll make copies of these. Give me time to read and digest all this." He fished in his lockbox and came out with a few drakes, which he tossed across the room to Fen. "In the meantime, I'm promoting you to Journeyman. You're doing good work. Come back tomorrow and I'll have new orders for you. Sound good?" Fen nodded and he shooed her out. She started across the river through the darkening twilight towards the Eight Plates, where she had left Julan to go turn in her report.

"Hi, Fen!" Julan's voice rang out from between the buildings, louder than it should have been, for tonight was Tales and Tallows, and the superstitious were already inside. Julan was hunched by the wall outside of the Eight Plates, clearly drunk. His clothes were dripping wet and he sat shivering slightly in the chill.

"What did you do, Julan?" Fen asked, exasperated, as she hurried forward to help him up. He stumbled and leaned against the wall, giggling weakly.

"I'm all wet, Fen!" he said cheerfully. "Wet, wet, wet." He laughed much too loudly, and someone down the street slammed their door.

"Come on," Fen said, supporting Julan's limp figure and struggling towards the Mages' Guild.

"You're so nice to me, Fen!" Julan said giddily, tripping a little. "No one was ever this nice to me! 'cept Shani." He giggled again. "Shani was nice, Fen. Like you!"

"Who's Shani?" Fen asked, puzzled.

"Who?" Julan said, and then he collapsed into a fit of laughter again. Making a mental note to ask Julan about this Shani later, she managed to get him to Ald'ruhn with little incident, though she didn't bother to help him out of his sopping clothes.

The next morning, they met in the Ald Skar Inn for breakfast, Julan looking downward with dark circles under his eyes.

"I feel like Orcs have been marching across my skull," he said, rubbing his head. Fen took a sip of her comberry juice, turning the page of the book that sat before her. There was a brief silence in which Julan thoughtfully rubbed his neck before Fen set down her fork.

"Julan, who's Shani?" Julan's hand froze on his neck and he looked up at her slowly.

"How do you know that name?" he asked at once.

"You mentioned it while you were drunk last night," she said simply. Julan groaned and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh Gods...did I? I hope I didn't say anything...embarrassing." Fen raised one eyebrow expectantly. "Well, if you must know, she's my ex-girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Fen said, amused. She found it difficult to imagine Julan having a girlfriend.

"I suppose you could say we were childhood sweethearts. We grew up together back when I used to have more contact with the Ahemmusa camp than I do these days. We were teenagers by that time, and you know how it is. Sneaking out at night to meet, hiding from our parents. We thought we were really in love, us against the world, all the usual stuff. Heads in the clouds, really."

"So what happened?" Julan sighed heavily.

"My mother, that's what happened. She found out, and told me to break it off with Shani. I yelled, swore, and absolutely refused. We had a huge row, and I left home in a rage. Lived in the mountains for a week – and then the dreams started getting to me. I had a long think about everything, and I realized my mother was right." Fen didn't speak, but Julan went on defensively. "I had responsibilities that I had to fulfill – duties to my people that went beyond my feelings for one person! Shani was distracting me, stopping me from doing what I had to do, because I had started to forget my sacred mission. If I really cared about her, I had to leave her and concentrate on training. Anything else would have hurt her more in the long run."

"I suppose," Fen said thoughtfully. "And you haven't talked to her since then?" Julan shook his head, and suddenly Fen remembered something. "Julan, did Shani's parents approve of this?" Julan gave a cold laugh.

"Hardly. Her father hates me."

"I think I've met him," she said slowly. "I'd forgotten, but…the reason I went to Ghostgate was to find you. A man in this inn told me his daughter wanted him to make sure that her friend was okay, but he didn't like the boy. That's the whole reason I came."

"Really." It was not a question, but rather a statement, said in an irritated tone. Julan picked at the kwama egg on his plate. "Fen, I don't know anything about _you._"

"What?" she said, much too quickly.

"How did you come to Morrowind? I mean, you're obviously an outlander. Where are you from?" Panicking suddenly, Fen sent her goblet flying in her haste to grab it and it hit an old Breton man in the back of the head.

"I'm…um…not an outlander, actually."

"You're not?"

"No." Fen desperately wanted to tell Julan who she was, to trust him, to trust _anyone. _But she knew it was too risky, that she couldn't place the fact of her identity in a single person, as much as she wanted to. "I grew up in Mournhold. I came here to…earn money for my family."

"Your family needs money? I always assumed you were well off. You carry yourself like the nobles in the cities."

"I – er – I was born into a wealthy family. My grandfather opened an ebony mine. But we were losing money, so they asked me to come here." She could tell from his expression that Julan did not believe her story in the slightest, but was relieved that he let it go rather than dwell on the subject.

"So," he said, picking up a fork and twiddling it around the table. "I've been thinking." Fen looked up at him.

"Thinking what?"

"I mean…we've been training. And I'm getting really good at that shock spell you taught me. I killed that cliff racer in one shot the other day." He dropped the fork and looked up at her, his face set. "I think I'm ready, Fen. To go back to Red Mountain and perform my sacred mission."

"Already?" Fen said it before she could stop herself, and Julan's face fell. "I mean…Julan, why don't you just tell me what it is? What if it's too soon?"

"It's not too soon," he said firmly. "And I _am _ready. I know it."

"And the sacred mission?"

"I can't tell you, Fen." She had braced herself for this response, but it irritated her all the same.

"Maybe I can help you if you do tell me."

"You can't! No one can help me!" Silence fell in the bar and a few people looked around and Julan, who grew red. "It has to be done by me," he said in a furtive whisper as the voices in the room picked up again.

"So you're leaving now?"

"Well…I was hoping you would come with me. I mean, you've been my trainer for all this time."

"So you want me to come with you on this mission I don't even know anything about?" Julan hesitated.

"Yes." Fen sighed.

"Fine. But I expect you to tell me what it is before we get there."

"Great!" Julan said, his face brightening. "So, can we go today? You haven't got anything else planned, have you?" Fen knew Caius had told her to come back today…but he couldn't have anything _that _pressing for her. Besides, if she didn't agree to go, Julan would run off to Red Mountain on his own. _And that would be a disaster, _she thought to herself.

"Sure, Julan. We'll go today."

Julan seemed to grow more and more nervous during their walk to Ghostgate. He flinched whenever a cliffracer flew overhead and nearly cut off Fen's arm trying to kill a rat.

"Calm down," Fen said soothingly, grabbing his wrist and carefully guiding his jinkblade away from her. "You'll give yourself a heart attack."

"I'm fine," Julan said, sheathing his sword and rubbing his neck. "I'm completely fine." Fen patted his shoulder reassuringly and they continued on their way for another hour, reaching the Ghostfence by noon.

"Okay," Julan said, striding forward quickly and pressing the triangular button that raised the first gate. "Okay. Let's go." As they stepped into the tunnel, the wind started to pick up, and when they came out on the other side of Ghostfence, they skies had turned scarlet and clouds of ash billowed in every direction. Fen tied the headscarf Gildan had given her around her nose and mouth and put up the hood of her robe as Julan squinted towards the sloping path that led up the mountain.

"Okay," he shouted over the wind. "Right. We're here. This is it." He stuck his hand out to Fen as if he wanted her to shake it. "Thanks for everything. I hope I'll see you again someday." Fen looked from his hand to his face in disbelief and yanked the scarf around her mouth down.

"Wait a minute. Just what are you planning on doing here?"

"I…" Julan dropped his hand. "I can't tell you."

"Don't give me that!" Fen said fiercely. "Don't expect me to leave you here with no explanation!"

"Why do you care, anyway?" Julan retorted, crossing his arms.

"I'm just worried you might get yourself killed!"

"Your concern is touching," Julan snapped sarcastically. "But I'm ready for this."

"_Ready for what?_" Fen shouted, throwing her arms up.

"You're not going to let this drop until I tell you, are you?!"

"No, I'm not!" For a moment, they simply glared at one another. Then Julan's shoulders sagged.

"Fine. But you have to swear yourself to secrecy."

"I swear," Fen said automatically.

"Well…I'm going to Dagoth Ur."

"_What?_" Fen exclaimed. "Why?!"

"To enter his citadel, hunt him down, and kill him."

"Julan!" Fen said in disbelief. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"

"You have no idea who you're talking to!" Julan shouted back at her.

"I'm talking to an idiot Ashlander who needed saving from clannfears not too long ago!"

"Think what you like!" Julan yelled as the wind picked up. "But I'm going up there! Are you coming or not?"

"Oh, I'm coming!" Fen shouted indignantly. "Preferably to talk you out of it before you get yourself slaughtered!"

"Ha!" He retorted, turning away. "It's an easy journey – straight up to the top!" And with that, he started walking. Fuming, Fen pulled the scarf around her mouth again and followed him, pressing against the ash pouring down from the peak of the mountain. They walked for about ten minutes without meeting anything when Julan suddenly stopped dead and turned to look at her.

"What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Oh," Julan said, looking puzzled. "I thought…nevermind." He started walking again, more firmly this time. A diseased rat stumbled across their path, and Fen killed it with a simple fire spell. The rat had barely fallen when Julan turned sharply again.

"Look, I can't hear you when you whisper like that."

"I didn't say anything that time either!"

"Don't tease me, alright?" Julan snapped. "I'm trying to concentrate."

"I didn't –" Fen started, but Julan had already kept walking. As they came up to a cluster of rocks, they saw a tall figure standing a few paces away. It looked like it could have been a man, but it was terribly deformed, with one enormous swollen arm and a lump on its back. Before Fen could speak, it turned and she saw its face, covered in raw sores and scabs and crusted with dried blood and leaking thick yellow pus. The thing gave a low roar and started to hobble towards them, dragging its one lame leg behind it. Julan wordlessly cast the shock spell Fen had taught him and the thing fell dead.

"Good, Julan," Fen said, looking up at him. But he just turned away and continued walking. They had barely gone ten paces when he stopped again and whipped around to face her, his face twisted in rage.

"STOP DOING THAT!"

"Doing _what? _I'm not doing anything!"

"If you're trying to make me paranoid, it's not working!" Julan roared. "Just stop it, okay?"

"You're making yourself paranoid –"

"_SHUT UP!_" Julan turned and started jogging up the hill so that Fen had to nearly sprint to keep up with him.

"_Shut up!_" he shouted again, stopping and pulling at his hair. "Stop talking, _I'm not listening to you!_" Fen touched his shoulder and he slapped her hand away. "Get away from me!" he screamed. "_Get out of my head!_"

"Julan!" Fen tried to shout, but his voice overtook hers.

"No! I am NOT...get OUT! Stop it, you s'wit! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

"Julan, listen to me!" Fen cried, seizing his shoulders and shaking him. He shoved her away and she fell, hard, on the rocky path.

"_I am Indoril Nerevar Reborn!_" Julan shouted as Fen scrambled to her feet. "You – will not…" And, quite suddenly, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed where he stood in the swirling dust.

"Julan!" Fen shouted, pulling the scarf away from her mouth and going to kneel by him. "_Julan!_" She grabbed his face, shook him roughly. "Help!" she cried, standing up and looking around. There had to be someone. "Help! _Someone please help us!_" She sprinted as far away from Julan as she dared, then back again. Ash filled her mouth and she fell to her knees, coughing, her eyes watering. "Help –" But her eyes were filling, and she was chocking on ash, and Julan was dead, and the whole world was spinning around her…

Then everything was dark.


	13. Chapter 13

"Do you need anything, sera?" Fen shook her head, keeping her eyes on the floor in front of her. She felt a hand rub her shoulder consolingly. "He'll be all right, dear. He's inhaled a lot of ash, but he should be fine once he wakes up." The Healer walked away to another part of the infirmary and Fen lifted her eyes to the bed in front of her where Julan lay, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling gently. She couldn't shake the image of him wild-eyed on Red Mountain, shoving her away from him.

"Poor woman," she heard the Healer say softly to someone on the other side of the screen that sectioned Julan's bed off from the rest of the ward. "If that Buoyant Armiger hadn't been nearby, I don't know if her friend there would have made it." Fen buried her face in her hands, exhausted and shaken. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Julan, madness in his eyes, throwing her away, sending her sprawling onto the ground while he ripped at his hair, his tormented screaming mingling with the howling ash storm.

"Fen?" She looked up, startled, and saw that Julan had weakly opened his eyes, blinking quickly.

"Julan?" she said quickly, dropping her hands. He turned and saw her, then seemed to realize where he was. He sat bolt upright, and looked around, his face panicked, and for a moment Fen thought he hadn't recovered from the madness that had overtaken him on Red Mountain.

"What's going on?" he said, and Fen was relieved to hear that his voice sounded normal, no longer strained and panicked.

"You're in Ghostgate," she said quietly. Julan fell back on the pillows, rubbing his head.

"Ghostgate? How…? Oh, gods, my head. My brain feels like it's full of dust and ashes... my memories are all mixed up. I think I was dreaming that we were climbing Red Mountain..." He looked at Fen questioningly and she nodded once.

"We _did_ climb the mountain?! What...Oh...yes. I remember now. But it was so like my dreams! Except that I could hear what the voices were saying this time!"

"What were they saying?" she asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer. Julan rubbed his head again.

"Well, there were some I couldn't recognize, but one...it was Dagoth Ur." Fen felt her stomach drop.

"Dagoth Ur?"

"I don't know how, but I just know. He was...mocking me. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at something like this happening," he murmured. "But...what do _you_ remember next?" Julan, his eyes crazed and angry, roaring in fury, throwing her away from him….

"You shouted a lot, then fainted."

"I fainted?! But that's not what I...ah. That part was a dream, then. Oh, it's all so mixed up in my head!" Julan leaned over, clutching his head. "I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I tried to do that."

"What _do _you remember?"

"Oh...I don't know," he replied quickly. "Not much. It's not important. What matters is, I failed again at my mission. I'm still not ready. Maybe I'll never be ready." He put his face in his hands, then looked up, rubbing his eyes. "Ai…maybe I should just go home and herd guar. Seems like that's all I'm fit for."

"It takes time," Fen said, sitting up in her chair. "You can't become a warrior overnight."

"At least someone thinks so," Julan said, making a weak attempt at a smile. "I just….don't have any other options now."

"We could go see your mother." Fen heard herself speaking the words and wasn't sure where they came from. She had completely forgotten about his mother, the outcast of the Ahemmusa Ashlanders. Julan, however, didn't look surprised at all.

"I've been avoiding that option, but I think you're right."

"I am?" Fen said, surprised.

"It looks like I have no other choice. Our home is west of the Ahemmusa camp, all we have to do from there is follow the coast to the foot of the mountains. You'll recognize the camp by the skulls hanging outside." Fen raised one eyebrow. "Uh... Don't worry about those, it's Mother's idea of a joke. I think." He threw the covers off suddenly and swung his feet off the bed. "Shall we go?"

"First, Julan," Fen said quickly, remembering what he had said before he fainted. "I have a question."

"Yes?"

"When we were on the mountain, and you were yelling at the voices…" Julan looked nervous.

"Um…yes?"

"You said that you were 'Indoril Nerevar Reborn.'" Julan's face drained of color.

"Oh...um…did I really?"

"Yes."

"…oh." There was a long silence.

"Care to explain?" Fen finally asked pointedly.

"Not…Not really, no. But I don't expect you'll let me get away with that, will you?"

"I don't think you're in much of a position to keep secrets from me anymore, are you?" Fen said with a faint smile.

"Look, I'll tell you, but not right now. I'm tired of all this talking, and my head hurts. Ask me again later, all right?" Deciding this was fair, Fen nodded and Julan stood up and picked up the bag at his feet. "What did they do with my armour?"

"Here," Fen said, opening a chest near the foot of the bed. Julan collected his armour and they left the infirmary, heading up the long spiral ramp and outside into the Ashlands. The ashstorm had subsided, and the skies were now gray and dim as night began to fall.

"Look, let's head to Vos first," Julan said as they started to walk back to Ald'ruhn. "It's the quickest way, and I want to stop by the Tradehouse. I was thinking we could pick up some kind of gift for Mother to sweeten her temper a bit. She's not going to like what I've been doing." He rubbed his neck. "At all."

"What, your sacred mission?" Julan grimaced.

"No….traveling with you."

"How pleasant," Fen murmured.

They stayed the night in the Mages' Guild in Ald'ruhn, then took the silt strider back to Balmora (as the guild guide in Ald'ruhn had still not returned). From there they took the guild guide again to Sadrith Mora, then spent the rest of the day on a boat to Tel Mora, the closest town to Vos. Fen slept the entire boat trip, but still felt like she had lost hours and hours of sleep when she woke up in the dark hours of the morning. They water-walked over the short stretch of sea from Tel Mora to Vos, where Julan directed her to the Varo Tradehouse. The Tradehouse was cramped and dim inside, as it was built, in the tradition of Telvanni housing, inside a hollowed-out mushroom.

"There's a merchant in here somewhere," Julan muttered, leading the way up a short flight of stairs to a smoke-filled room on the second story. "My mother does a lot of business with him. Ah. There he is." Julan went over to a purple-robed Dunmer man standing in a shadowy corner and started talking while Fen sat down at one of the tables and laid her head down, exhausted. "Ah, Fen?" She looked up to see both Julan and the man looking expectantly at her. "Could I…um…borrow a thousand septims?"

"What?" Fen asked, rubbing her eyes.

"For the present for my mother," he said quickly. "I'll pay you back. Eventually."

"Fine," she said, and she counted out the money and passed it to him. Julan went back to the man and then returned to Fen holding an intricate-looking white amulet.

"Right. Well, this should really help me get back on her good side." He sat down across from her. "I think it's time I told you the whole story about myself and my mission, if you still want to know." Fen sat up, paying attention now.

"I'd be delighted," she said, leaning her head on her hand. Julan sighed.

"The first thing you should know is that my mother is not actually my mother by birth. No one has any idea who my real parents are. Azura sent Mother a dream, in which she told her to follow a black kagouti into the Grazelands, and when she did she found me as a baby, in the shadow of some rocks. Azura told her that it was her task to raise me to be a great warrior, and that I had an important destiny."

"And is this where you being Indoril Nerevar comes in?"

"Ah. Yes. That. Look, you know who Indoril Nerevar was, don't you? The great Dunmer war-chief from long ago, who united our people against the Nords and the Dwemer?"

"I…I know a bit, yes."

"It doesn't matter whether you know who he was or not," Julan said quickly. "Go and read a book, if you care. What matters, is that he was murdered by Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil, and Azura foretold that his spirit would one day be reborn to avenge himself and set things to rights in Morrowind by destroying Dagoth Ur and whatever profane sorcery the Tribunal used to steal their false god-hood. In the prophecies, this reincarnated Nerevar is known as the 'Nerevarine.'"

"And you think this is you?" Fen's head was starting to hurt.

"I... I know it sounds unbelievable. I find it hard to believe myself, sometimes. But...it's true. Azura has revealed her will, and explained what must be done. I know I have a responsibility to fulfill, and however impossible it might seem, I have to try. Who could oppose Azura? I trust her to know what my destiny holds, and what I am capable of.

"Look, I know I've been very secretive about all this, but I do have good reasons. If they knew about me, the Tribunal and their Temple followers would hunt me down and destroy me. So would the Emperor, come to that, since the Nerevarine is also prophesied to free Morrowind from the foreign invaders. So I must ask you to keep my secret." Fen studied his face. He didn't seem like a person who would become a great prophet and save all of Morrowind. _But_, she supposed, _I probably don't seem much like a princess either._

"Of course, Julan. And for what it's worth, I believe you." Julan smiled.

"Good to know someone's on my side," he muttered, then stood up. "Shall we get going, then?"

"Now?" Fen asked, stifling a yawn.

"You slept on the ship, didn't you?"

"I spent most of that time vomiting, truthfully," Fen said wryly, grudgingly getting to her feet. "It's almost as bad as a silt strider."

The sun had risen by the time they walked outside, and they moved along the coast in silence, Julan occasionally checking to make sure that they were headed in the right direction. Near noon, they came over the crest of a hill and saw an enormous Daedric ruin spread out below them across the shallow water, all odd angles and slanted doors.

"Oh, wow," Fen said, taking in a sharp breath.

"My mother's yurt is just past this," Julan said, seeming utterly unimpressed. "Come on, we can go down and skirt around the edge of the ruins, then keep going along the coast." They went down the hill and had just started to walk around the ruins when there was a loud, inhuman screech and a Winged Twilight, a Daedra that resembled a stooped woman with wings for arms, came barreling out of the ruins, straight at Julan. He turned, ready to fight it, but Fen could easily see that the Twilight would have to trouble dispatching the pair of them.

"Run!" she shouted, grabbing Julan's wrist and pulling him around the ruin's walls. She heard the Twilight shriek behind them, and she released Julan. "Levitate!" she shouted, casting the spell. "They can't fly!" Julan did so, and they drifted up into the air and away from the Twilight, who ran in circles screeching below them.

"Gods," Julan said as they landed a little ways away on the sand. "What the hell was that?"

"A Daedra," Fen said darkly as they started to walk again. "Something that we ought to try and avoid for a while." They had only went a few more minutes when three yurts around a campfire came into view.

"That's it," he said, his face set. "She won't be happy. Just know that." As they came closer, Fen realized there were, indeed, bound skulls dangling outside the closest yurt, the one which, to her dismay, Julan headed straight into.

Mashti Kaushibael's yurt was small and cluttered, and she sat by live fire in the center reading by the light. She looked up as they entered and her face twisted in sudden rage as she laid eyes on Fen.

"Who are you!?" she snarled, standing up. "What are you doing here with my son?! I warn you, if you _dare _–"

"Calm down, mother, and let me explain!" Julan said hastily. He turned to Fen and spoke in a low voice. "Why don't you go and light the fire in the... um... guest hut, and make yourself comfortable. You'll be sleeping in there tonight. It's the middle one." With that, he quickly turned her around and gave her a small push out the yurt's flap. Relieved, Fen entered the middle yurt as Julan had told her and found it was dark, stacked with crates and baskets with a bedroll on one side and a cold firepit in the middle.

Fen knelt before the fire and lit it with a spell as she heard thunder boom outside. The room brightened and she sat back on her heels, listening as the thunder mingled with angry shouting from the yurt beside her. She laid back on the bedroll, exhausted, and listened as the shouting gradually died down top be replaced by rain that began to patter on the roof of the yurt. When she could no longer hear any traces of an argument, Fen warily went back outside and through the rain to Mashti's yurt.

"Oh! Fen, I was just coming to get you," Julan said as Fen entered. Mashti was sitting on the other side of the fire, her face pink and her eyes angry. "Ah…let's go outside." They stepped outside the yurt and Julan gave a sigh of relief. "Okay. Mother has calmed down a bit. She's going to perform a spell that will give her a dream-vision from Azura tonight, and Azura will tell her where to go from here. I have to stay and help her prepare for the spell, but you should get some rest."

"I'm sorry," Fen said. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"It's fine," Julan answered, biting his lip. "I prefer it this way. And besides –"

"JULAN!" came a shout from inside the yurt, and Julan jumped.

"I should go," he said quickly, slipping back inside the tent. Fen pushed her hair out of her face and went back into the storage tent, where she pulled off her shoes and fell asleep almost instantly.

_A tall figure, much taller than Fen, stood before her in a dark, black void. His face was concealed by a golden mask, and he spoke to her in a tongue that she could not decipher. His words were soothing, pleasant, his voice deep and calm. He reached out one long-fingered hand to touch her, and suddenly she was afraid. She struggled, but found she could not move, and he let his hand hang there, tormenting her. She tried to cry out, but her voice was broken and dead. The man started to speak again, and hot fear washed over her – _

"Fen?" Her eyes snapped open and she found she was lying in the darkness. Fen struggled to sit up, and she quickly lit a candle beside the bedroll and saw Julan was sitting beside it, his armor gone, replaced with traditional Ashlander garb. "Are you awake?" She narrowed her eyes at him, and he reddened. "Ah…stupid question."

"It's the middle of the night, Julan," she said, rubbing her eyes. "Do you want something?"

"No, I just…um…oh, gods…" He leaned back, and Fen saw that he had dark circles under his eyes.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "You look terrible."

"I...no. Not really. I...I think I'm going mad, Fen." She had a sudden vision of him on Red Mountain, throwing her away from him as easily as a rag doll…

"What do you mean, you think you're going mad?"

"I- I mean...I had another of those weird dreams. It was...horrible. Worse than any I've had before. I wasn't on the mountain this time, I was in a cavern. And there were those Ash Priest things there, watching me, standing all around me. And they started whispering things...horrible things. And as they spoke, my skin started rotting and my flesh was becoming monstrous...and not just my body, my mind too!

"It felt like they were trying to crawl into my head, and change who I am, and everything I believe in into something horrible and depraved. To eat away at my identity, until I have nothing left except what they want me to have...And then...even after I woke up, I kept seeing them...just in flashes, out of the corner of my eye...the Ash Priest things, and others...worse...but when I looked again, there was nothing. I...I thought I was losing it. I had to get out of there!"

"What are you going to do?" Fen asked.

"I can't talk to Mother. She has enough to worry about. And maybe it's nothing. Although it didn't feel like nothing...but I...I just felt so...alone, I suppose. I had to talk to someone. I hate to admit it, but I'm scared. Because I don't know how to fight it. How do you fight something like that?"

"You can," Fen said quietly. "I know you can."

"I hope you're right. I...I don't want to go mad. And if Dagoth Ur wants me to just give up my mind to him, then I won't come quietly. But what if I'm not strong enough?"

"You will be," she said firmly, then smiled. "And I'll be here to keep an eye on you."

"Thanks," he said quietly, and Fen wordlessly opened her arms. He hugged her gratefully for a moment, then pulled back.

"I just…um…I'll go now." His face red, Julan quickly pushed out of the yurt. Fen watched the flap flutter shut, then laid back on the bedroll, exhausted but still painfully unable to sleep.

She left the yurt early the next morning. The sky was eggshell pale and the air was crisp, the sea whispering quietly a ways out. Julan stood silhouetted against the sunlight, facing the sea. Preparing herself with a sigh, Fen walked quietly up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Julan?" He looked down at her and bit his lip, clearly flustered.

"I'm sorry, Fen, I –"

"It's fine," she said, smiling. "It was only a hug." She studied his firm profile earnestly. "Julan, listen. You're the best friend I've ever had…well, you're probably the only friend I've ever had. But that doesn't matter. I feel more like myself with you than I could with anyone else." He looked at his feet. "I think of you as my brother, Julan. My incredibly naive brother that my mother's made me chase around so he doesn't get mauled by clannfears." Julan gave her a small attempt at a smile.

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"Never."

"I'm sorry, Fen," Julan said again, ruffling his hair. "I just…I don't know, I'm just so confused lately."

"It's fine," she said, and she hugged him again, though this embrace was more friendly, more familiar. "Besides, Helseth would be as furious that I'm friends with an Ashlander as your mother is that you're friends with me."

"But I thought…" Julan gave her a sideway look, clearly confused. Fen's eyes widened as she suddenly realized her fatal mistake. She backed away, shocked at her own stupidity, her hands over her mouth.

"I…I didn't mean to say…" But the damage was done. Julan was staring at her incredulously, his mouth open slightly. For a moment they just stood there, staring at one another, Fen horrified at the words she had let slip.

"Your family didn't own an ebony mine, did they?" Julan finally said. His voice was hard. Fen squeezed her eyes shut. _No, no, no, no, no. _"Fen?"

"They didn't," she said finally, forcing her eyes open. "No." _What do I tell him? _she thought quickly, panicking. She couldn't possibly tell him…?

"Then who are you really?" Julan asked. A long silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant crashing of waves on rocks. "Who are you, Fen?"

"My name is really Fenara," she said, her voice sounding distant and distorted. "And I came here because I was exiled from Mournhold." The truth was spilling out of her, and she could do nothing to stem the flow of it. "I was exiled from Mournhold because I stole from my father. And my father…my father is King Helseth." Julan's face was blank.

"Helseth doesn't have a daughter."

"He does. I was illegitimate. No one knew about me except the ones who worked in the palace. My mother was a minstrel's daughter."

"You're…a princess?" The word had been gone from Fen's ears for so long, and memories came crashing over her, servants and chambermaids and cooks and courtiers, all bowing to her, all calling her princess.

"Yes," she said, and the voice caught in her throat and came out sounding strangled and odd. Another long silence.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh, Julan, I couldn't," Fen said, finally dropping her hands. "If anyone finds out about who I am, I could put my whole family in danger. I didn't tell anyone, Julan. I didn't single you out."

"But you didn't trust me."

"It was like your sacred mission! I _couldn't_ tell anyone about it! I had to keep it a secret for my family's safety!" Julan just stared at her, his eyes hard. "Please, Julan," Fen said earnestly. "I –"

"Were you planning on telling me?"

"I don't know. Eventually." He looked at her for a long moment and the word hung in the chilly air between them, uncertain and harsh. _Eventually. Eventually. Eventually._

"Julan!" Mashti's voice called out sharply from her yurt, and they both jumped. She beckoned with one long finger and Julan gave Fen a fleeting glance, then went inside. Mashti looked expectantly at her, and she reluctantly followed.

"I have received Azura's guidance, Outlander, and I would speak with you now," Mashti said, letting the tent flap fall closed behind them. "I have spoken with the Daedra Prince who guides me in all matters concerning my son. She has informed me that you may be trusted, and that you may yet be important to the fulfillment of the prophecies. My son has chosen to disclose the secrets of his mission to you. As an outlander, you cannot hope to truly comprehend its importance to this land, but I hope you will be able to try, for your own sake. The gods deal harshly with those who would stand in the way of destiny.

"I understand you have been training my son. In faith, I myself can see improvements in his skills. Perhaps you have truly been sent to aid him on this difficult journey. If this is so, then I give you a choice. You can continue to support him as he carries out the work of his destiny, in which case you shall be rewarded with all the gifts the gods can bestow."

"Or…?" Fen said nervously.

"Or betray him, and I shall call down the curses of a thousand vengeful ancestors upon you, and we shall hound you, waking and sleeping, to the end of your brief, miserable life."

"I…I see."

"Good. I am glad we understand one another," Mashti said simply. "For the present, continue to train. Quest together as travelling adventurers. My son needs experience of the world, and you can offer him this. I will contact you when the time is right. Take this ring." She thrust a small copper ring with a green stone set into it into Fen's hand. "I have given another to Julan. It will allow him to communicate with you via a spiritual link, and travel to your location, should you become separated, or the red mists of combat cloud your minds. Now, go." She pointed at the tent flap, and both she and Julan wordlessly went back outside. The flap fell closed behind them, and Julan spared a sideways look at her.

"So you're the princess of Mournhold."

"Not anymore," Fen said quietly, turning the telepathy ring over in her fingers and determinately not looking at Julan. "My father….Helseth…he's never liked me much. He was rather looking for an excuse to get rid of me. When I tried to touch a cursed Golden Kanet in the palace library so I could study it, he had me arrested for stealing and exiled me."

"What a s'wit," Julan said suddenly, and Fen was surprised to hear the anger in his voice. She turned her head towards him, sharply.

"You're…you're not mad?"

"Of course not," he said simply. "I'm just glad you told me." He winced slightly. "Er…you don't expect me to call you 'princess' now, do you?"

"No!" Fen said quickly. "No, please don't. In fact, don't let anyone know. _No one _can know."

"Not a word," Julan said with a smile, and Fen felt relief wash over her. Julan wasn't angry, and she felt as if a huge load had been lifted from her shoulders. Keeping a secret had drained all her energy, and now that she shared it, the weight of her identity was split.

"So Azura thinks you're okay, does she?" Julan said. "Heh...she should know, I suppose! And now we get to go adventuring together! So, what should we do? You must have something you should be doing that I've been keeping you from." With a sinking feeling, Fen remembered Caius. How long ago had he told her to see him? Three days? Four?

"I have to go talk to Cosades," she said quickly. "Gods, he'll be angry."

"What does he want you to do?" Julan asked skeptically. "I don't like him."

"He's just…having me research some things. He's a bit eccentric. Probably writing a book or something." Fen didn't think it would be good to jeopardize their friendship with another secret, so she quickly changed the subject. "I can teleport to Balmora from here. If I give you some gold, can you go to Ald'ruhn then take the silt strider and meet me outside his house? You remember where it is, don't you?"

"Sure," he said, although he still looked troubled. "I'll meet you there in an hour." With that, he cast a recall spell and was gone, leaving Fen standing alone on the beach by Mashti's yurt, a curious mingle of emotion inside her chest.


	14. Chapter 14

"Nice of you to show up," Cosades said as the door banged shut behind Fen. "How long ago did I tell you to be here, Operative?"

"I –"

"Too long ago," he interjected. Cosades slammed his skooma pipe down on his table. "I'm tired of you running every which way to do gods know what all over this damn island. It happens one more time and there'll be consequences, you hear?" Fen bit back a retort and nodded. "Good," Cosades said, tripping over a boot on the floor on his way to the table. "Now. I have orders for you. First, take this." He shuffled through some papers there and pulled one out, handing it to her. "These are notes from one of my informants, Hassour Zainsubani. I had to send one of my other Operatives to go get them since you disappeared off the face of the damn earth for a week. They're on Ashlander customs. You'll need them later. I'm promoting you, and sending you to the Urshilaku camp to speak with Sul-Matuul and Nibani Maesa. But before you go –"

"Ouch!" Fen felt a sudden burning on her finger and looked down sharply. There was nothing there, though, and she looked up apologetically at Caius, who raised an eyebrow, then continued.

"Before you go, I think it may be time to tell you what's going on."

"What do you mean, what's going on?" Fen asked, confused. Caius gave a heavy sigh and sat down, shuffling through the papers again.

"The Emperor and his advisors think you have the appearance of meeting the conditions of the Nerevarine prophecies."

"I have the – what?"

"That's why you were pulled out of prison on his Majesty's authority and sent to me," Cosades continued doggedly. "So you could satisfy the conditions of the Nerevarine prophecies and become the Nerevarine." He handed another sheet of parchment to Fen. "Here. This is a decoded copy of the package you gave me when you arrived. Read it later. It should explain everything." Fen took the parchment wordlessly and stared down at it. Her heart was racing.

"As you'll see in the decoded message," Caius went on, "the Emperor and his counselors say you have the _appearance_ of satisfying the conditions of the prophecy. Do you _really_ satisfy the prophecy? Are you _really_ the prophesied Nerevarine?" He folded his thick hands and glared thoughtfully at her. "At first, I thought we were just supposed to create a persuasive impostor. Now I don't know what to think. But I am sure of one thing. This is not just primitive superstition, and we will treat it seriously, just as his Majesty commands.

"Zainsubani says Sul-Matuul and Nibani Maesa at Urshilaku camp are the heads of the Nerevarine cult," Caius continued, pulling himself out of his chair with a heavy sigh. "So I'm sending you to speak with them. Tell them your story, and have them test you against the Nerevarine prophecies. As heads of the Nerevarine cult, they can best judge whether you satisfy the prophecies. When you've spoken with them, report back to me. Take the silt strider to Ald'ruhn, then to Maar Gan. There's a scout, Nuleno Tedas, stationed at the outpost there who can give you instructions." He paused right in front of her, his eyes narrowed darkly. "No side trips, Operative. This is more important than whatever you might need to do."

With that, he shooed her away and Fen went out and stood on the doorstep of his house, staring down at the papers she had been given in disbelief. But before she could even begin to comprehend what she had just been told, a furious voice echoed down the street.

"You filthy, traitorous, _n'wah!_" Fen looked up and saw Julan storming down the road, his face twisted in rage. "You _scum!_ You _liar!_ I thought I could trust you! And now you have betrayed me in the WORST possible way!" He stopped right in front of her, his face inches from her own.

"Julan, what are you talking abo –" Julan slapped the papers out of her hands and they fluttered to the cobbles while Julan leaned in closer, his glare hot and furious.

"I KNEW something wasn't right about that Cosades man! So I used our telepathy rings to listen in to your conversation!"

"You _spied _on me?!" Fen cried incredulously.

"WHAT?!" Julan roared. "YOU accuse ME of spying? YOU'RE the spy, Fen! I know that now! You're an _Imperial_ spy! Of all people, I never thought _you_ would be a spy for my most hated enemies. And that's not even the WORST of it!"

"Let's have it, then," Fen said angrily, her hands balling into fists.

"You're trying to pass yourself off as the NEREVARINE! YOU! An OUTLANDER! How DARE you mock me like that! And not just me, my PEOPLE, my RELIGION and my entire CULTURE!"

"Look, this is a surprise to me too!" Fen shouted.

"I don't CARE! You're still prepared to go the Urshilaku and attempt to con them into accepting you as the fulfillment of the prophecies! That is the most offensive and ridiculous thing I have ever heard!"

"I'm not trying to 'con' anyone. They're going to _test_ me," Fen snarled, pushing past Julan and starting furiously down the street. Julan caught her arm and roughly spun her around to face him.

"How can I possibly believe anything you say anymore?! I just... I can't believe you could do this to me! First you _lie _to me about who you are, now _this?!_"

"It's always about _you,_ isn't it, Julan?!" Fen shouted, rage boiling up inside her. She pulled her arm fiercely out of Julan's grasp. "How the hell do you think _I _feel?"

"YOU?! How YOU feel? Stop changing the subject! You LIED to me! Gods, you must've been laughing at me all along...How could you lie to me about something so important to me?!"

"Well maybe if it upsets you so much, you should leave!" she snapped, turning sharply again and starting down the street.

"Oh no. You're not getting rid of me that easily. Do you really think I'm going to sit back and let you try to mislead my people?" Fen paused and glared darkly at him over her shoulder.

"What exactly do you plan to do?" she asked scathingly. "You're a hated exile, remember? Just like me!"

"Go on, twist the knife!" Julan shouted. Yes, I'm an outcast, and probably no one would listen to a word I said. But I have to try something! I can't let you do this! You'll have to kill me first."

"MAYBE I WILL!" Fen shouted.

"YOU JUST TRY IT, F'LAH! You may have betrayed me, but I won't let you betray the whole of Morrowind to the Emperor!" Resisting the urge to throw him to the ground then and there, Fen turned and furiously stormed off down the street, not caring whether he followed her or not.

Fen still felt tired enough to sleep for years, but her anger had given her a new energy, and she went straight to the silt strider and paid for passage to Ald'ruhn, then Maar Gan, Julan forcefully following her. By the time she reached Maar Gan, it was noontime, and Fen led the way into the outpost, deliberately slamming the door behind her and scowling as she heard Julan wrench it open again. A Dunmer woman praying at an altar looked up, affronted by the disruption, but Fen paid her no mind and went straight downstairs to talk to Nuleno Tedas.

"Urshilaku camp is due north from Maar Gan, but high ridges lie in the way," Nuleno said when Fen asked her. "From Maar Gan head east past the Silt Strider, then take a trail north to the Foyada Bani-Dad. Follow the Foyada northwest to the sea. A shipwreck at the seamouth of the ravine is a landmark. Swim east around the headland. Pass east through the ruins of Assurnabitashpi Shrine. Avoid Daedra here. They're powerful and aggressive. Urshilaku Camp lies east of the ruins, inland in a low hollow. Have you got a map?" Fen unfolded the thick parchment that Nine-Toes had given her all those months ago and handed it to her. She found a quill and made a small circle in the northern part of the island, just past a long ridge that stretched from Red Mountain to the coast.

"It's a long journey," she said, handing the map back to Fen. "Riddled with cliffracers and constant ashstorms. If I were you, I would make sure you always have some kind of shelter to get out of the Blight. The trader in town here sells tents, if you're interested."

"Thank you," Fen said, and, deciding this was a good idea, she walked over to the Tradehouse and spent two hundred septims on a brown and green striped tent that was handed to her in a tightly-rolled bundle. Pointedly ignoring Julan, she paid for a room for the night, asked to be woken early, and sat down at the table there, unfolding the papers Caius had given her. She skimmed over the notes on Ashlander customs and respect, her anger ebbing away, then set them aside and turned to the document she had been itching to read since Caius had given it to her. The decoded copy of the package she had delivered to him. It seemed like years ago.

_Spymaster Caius Cosades_

_Knight-Errant of the Imperial Order of Blades_

_Director of Imperial Intelligence in Vvardenfell District, Eastern Provinces_

_I have the honor to acquaint you with his Majesty's wishes concerning Fenara, an individual of no rank or consequence._

_Fenara has been released from prison by his Majesty's authority and sent to you with this missive. Fenara is to be entered as a Novice in the Imperial Order of the Blades, and is to serve under your absolute authority as you shall see fit, except insofar as his Majesty's particular wishes are concerned._

_His Majesty's particular wishes are as follows._

_A local superstition holds that an orphan and outcast, a youth born on a certain day to uncertain parents, shall unite all the tribes of the Dunmer, drive out the invaders of Morrowind, and shall reestablish the ancient laws and customs of the Dark Elven nations. This orphan and outcast is called in legend the "Nerevarine," and is supposed to be a reincarnation of the long-dead Dunmer General and First Councilor, Lord Indoril Nerevar._

_Fenara has the appearance of meeting the conditions of this local superstition. Therefore it is his Majesty's desire that Fenara shall, insofar as is possible, satisfy the conditions of this ancient prophecy, and shall become the Nerevarine._

_Though this prophecy is indeed only an ancient local superstition, his Majesty has taken counsel on this matter with his most expert informants and confidants, and his Majesty is persuaded that the prophecy is genuine and significant, either in its entirety, or in its several parts, and he earnestly demands you treat this matter with the utmost seriousness._

_Certain aspects of this ancient superstition are described at the end of this document, and further materials will be forthcoming by courier at the earliest occasion. It will, of course, be necessary that you acquaint yourself better with the details of this ancient superstition from your local sources. Since this matter intimately concerns Fenara, it is expected that you will employ him to gather information on this subject. His Majesty has taken a great personal interest in the legends and prophecies of the Nerevarine, and eagerly awaits reports your reports._

_I have the honor to be, Sir, your most Humble and Obedient Servant,_

_Glabrio Bellienus_

_Personal Secretary to the Emperor_

Fen set the paper down, her hands shaking. So Julan was right. The Emperor wanted her to be a decoy. A pawn that he could control to gain the trust of the Dunmer. She buried her face in her hands. Is this why she had come from Mournhold? To play this dismal role in the Emperor's plans for Morrowind? Tired and confused, she tucked away both sheets and blew out the candle, falling onto her pillow and trying to ignore the feeling of unrest poking at her brain.

_A dark void, filled with nothingness, only the golden-masked man before her. "There are many rooms in the house of the master," he said, opening his wiry arms. "Be easy, for from the hands of the enemies I have delivered you." The man faded into nothingness and she could see a low stone altar lit with scarlet candles that cast a reddish glow over the body that lay there. It was utterly still, and Fen moved closer and saw its face, a young Dunmer woman with dark hair and fine features. It was her face. She panicked and reached out to touch her body, and as she did, the body suddenly drew breath and its eyes flew open, glossy and blank, and then bright, hot light filled the room, blinding her…_

"Sera?" Fen opened her eyes. A young maid was standing near her bed, holding a dim candle. "It is an hour before sunrise, sera. You wished to be roused."

"Yes," Fen said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "Thank you." The maid set the candle on the dresser and left the room, leaving Fen sitting in the near-darkness listening to her heart beat slowly return to normal. After a moment, she swung her feet out of bed and got dressed, wondering if she had managed to lose Julan. Or perhaps she hadn't, and he would apologize to her. Both of these possibilities, however, proved to be false when she walked outside and found him sitting there on a crate, sharpening his jinkblade with a rock. He gave her a foul look which clearly told her he wasn't planning on speaking to her, and she shrugged it off and headed out of town, around the silt strider, and up through the foyada, Julan following her, unspeaking.

Weak, watery sunlight started to spread as they moved deeper into the Ashlands, and Fen grew used to the quiet rhythm of her plain shoes on the ground mingling with the heavy footfalls of Julan's boots. As the hours stretched on, the sky became faint blue streaked with clouds that were moving in ominously. At first, Fen had relished in the silence, for it reminded her of the days when she had first come to Vvardenfell and spent her time wandering through Dwemer ruins looking for rare books and artifacts, the subtle clicking and whirring of machinery her only company. Now, though, she was used to Julan's quips and constant jokes, and the silence made her feel lonelier than she would have if he wasn't even there.

It was nearing three in the afternoon when Fen heard waves breaking the shore in the distance and knew they were close. The sky was growing dark with the coming ashstorm and her legs ached. She desperately wanted to stop and rest for a moment, but she had no desire to sit awkwardly with a stony Julan and pressed onward. Soon they came to the water where there was a shipwreck, just as Nuleno had said, guarded by a single scamp. They killed the scamp, the first action they had seen all day, and water-walked around the high stones and the Daedric ruin of Assurnabitashpi, as Nuleno suggested. Fen checked her map when they got to land again and reasoned that they were now only a short walk from the Urshilaku camp. She raised her eyes and decided it was just over the hill that stood before them.

"So…we're almost to Urshilaku camp." Fen turned around, surprised that Julan had suddenly spoke. "I suppose you're going to want to speak to their ashkahn."

"Yes." There was a long silence. The only sound was the wind of the gathering storm starting to stir the sea behind them.

"So. What will you tell them? They'll just laugh at you, you know. You're an outlander, so you could never be Nerevarine. Why are you even bothering?" Fen closed her eyes. This was the last thing she wanted to deal with now.

"I need to know what's going on," she said slowly.

"Well, you're wasting your time."

"Perhaps I am, Julan," Fen said, opening her eyes. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd keep out of it when I talk to the Urshilaku, and not start yelling that I'm an Imperial imposter."

"Why should I keep out of it?!" he said indignantly. "You _are_ an Imperial imposter!"

"They're going to test me against the prophecies. If I fail, none of this will matter." Julan crossed his arms.

"Well...that's true."

"But if you start making a fuss, they'll refuse to test me at all – and then you'll have no proof I'm an impostor." He said nothing. "So keep your mouth shut for once, okay?"

"Fine," he said at last. "But I'm not doing this to help you."

"Oh, I know," Fen said coldly, turning away. They started to climb the hill, and when they reached the summit they found the Urshilaku camp arrayed below them. It was a small collection of yurts that seemed to be dominated by five large yurts that all stood under a kind of awning erected over them. The rest were roughly the same size, save for one other larger one with a faded rug outside the tent flap.

Fen led the way down into the camp, and as they entered the cluster of yurts, the Ashlanders glared suspiciously at them. One round-faced boy holding a roughly-hewn wooden bow approached them eagerly, but a woman wearing a baby papoose on her back seized his hand and pulled him away. Fen reached into her bag and pulled out a trama root, a dark red thorn as long as her forearm that she had sawed off from a plant during the walk through the foyada. She had read in the notes from Caius that this was an acceptable gift to present to an Ashlander.

She approached one man with long, straggly dark hair and a battered netch leather cuirass who stood his ground firmly. There was a sharpened spear strapped across his back and Fen could sense his urge to draw it. She held out the trama root and bowed her head slightly.

"A gift for you, serjo, for I hope to be forgiven for entering your camp uninvited." The man took the trama root, then lowered it and looked at her quizzically.

"What business do you have here, Outlander?"

"I wish to speak to Sul-Matuul and Nibani Maesa of the Nerevarine prophecies, serjo." The man studied her for a moment.

"I do not believe what I am hearing. You wish to speak to Sul-Matuul and Nibani Maesa." He gazed at her curiously, as if guessing the reason she wanted to talk. "You do not look like the Nerevarine. But you do not speak like a fool, or a madman. This is a puzzle. I tell you...go speak with Zabamund in his yurt. He is a gulakhan, Sul-Matuul's champion, and he will decide what is right. If Zabamund gives you permission, then you may enter the Ashkhan's Yurt and speak with Sul-Matuul." He pointed her to the right yurt, one of the five under the large awning, and watched her go, holding the trama root in his hand.

Fen pushed aside the tent flap and immediately bowed deeply to the tall Dunmer man who stood just inside, sitting by the fire and smoking a long pipe. He lowered the pipe when they entered, then snubbed it out, speaking easily.

"Speak with respect, Outlander, and I will listen." And so Fen told him everything she knew about the Nerevarine prophecies and the Sixth House, surprising herself with all that she had learned since she had arrived in Vvardenfell. Julan, too, looked surprised, and Zabamund seemed pleasantly impressed.

"These are not simple matters," he said heavily. "You know a great deal more than I would have expected. And some of what you say is news to me. I believe you should speak to Sul-Matuul. Perhaps he will be angry with me. But I think I can bear that. Go to the Ashkhan's Yurt. Ask our chieftain your questions, and tell him I have sent you."

"Thank you," Fen said, and she bowed again before leaving the yurt.

"This one is the ashkahn's," Julan said at once pointing, and Fen glanced at him. He reddened and looked away, as if not wanting to admit that he had spoken to her. She warily lifted the tent flap of the center yurt and bowed deeply upon entering.

"Stand." She slowly did so, and saw that the ashkahn was a short and wiry man, with broad shoulders that made up for his lack of height. He had a curiously stretched face, as if it had been melted and drawn out, then let to cool. "Which one of my gulakahns has sent you, Outlander?"

"Zabamund, serjo."

"I see. And why has he sent you?"

"I wish to be tested against the Nerevarine prophecies, serjo." A silence fell within the yurt.

"You think you fulfill the Nerevarine prophecies," he finally said. "You wish to be tested to see if you are the Nerevarine. No outlander may join the Nerevarine cult. If you were a Clanfriend, an adopted member of the Ashlander tribes, then perhaps. I have an initiation rite in mind. If you pass this rite, I will adopt you as a Clanfriend of the Ashlanders. And then I will submit you to Nibani Maesa, our wise woman, who is skilled in oracles and mysteries, and who will test you against the prophecies."

"What is the initiation rite, serjo?"

"To be adopted into the tribe, you must undergo a harrowing. In a harrowing, you will be judged by the spirits and ancestors to see if you are worthy. Go to the Urshilaku Burial Caverns and fetch me Sul-Senipul's Bonebiter Bow. Sul-Senipul was my father, and his spirit guards his bonemold long bow deep in the burial caverns. Return to me with this bow, and I will adopt you into the Ashlander tribes as a Clanfriend.

"The burial caverns lie to the south-southeast of the camp, a north-facing door in a little hill halfway between us and the slopes of Red Mountain. Go north from the camp to the water, then turn east. At a rock cairn on the beach, turn and head straight south until you find the door. The spirits of our ancestors guard the caverns. They will attack, and will kill you if they can. Force your way past them, or evade them, get the bow, and return to prove your worthiness. Now go." Fen left the yurt, Julan trailing behind her, and started straight north. She was driven by an odd sense of determination now and intended to be finished with Sul-Matuul's task before the night was finished, and it was only just four o' clock. The ashstorm was brewing quickly, though, and the sky was now a dusty brown as the winds sped up.

She followed Sul-Matuul's instructions carefully, meeting little along the way save for the occasional kagouti. By the time she spotted the wooden door set into a rock, only twenty minutes had passed since she left the camp. Fen headed for the door, determined, and had one hand on its handle when Julan's voice stopped her.

"Fen?" She paused, her eyes fixed on the door several meters away. "You're not really going in there, are you?" She turned to look at him, standing uncertainly a few feet away. "I just have a bad feeling about this. You don't know my people like I do. You think this is an initiation, but it's not. It's a deathtrap. Sul-Matuul has no intention of making you a Clanfriend, he just wanted to get rid of you. He doesn't think you'll come back from this place."

"And why should I believe you?" she asked sharply, surprising herself. This new, angry Fen was someone that she had never met before, strange and alien. She was used to the shy, silent Fenara, not outspoken and driven Fen.

"Because if these are the Urshilaku Burial caverns, then they are a most sacred place. No ashkahn would just send an outlander here to trample and profane the bones of his ancestors. But he might send someone there if he was sure they would die, since the release of their soul would increase the power of the tomb's ancestor guardian spirits. This is how my people think. Can't you see that?"

"Why are you telling me this?" Fen asked, dropping her hand from the door. "I'd have thought my death here would be just what you want. Why the concern?" Julan looked uncomfortable, but didn't speak. "I'm going in anyway," Fen went on. "Even if what you say is true, it's still the only way I'll be made a Clanfriend. Are you coming?"

"Yes…" he said slowly. "...I'm coming. Someone has to make sure you treat this sacred place with respect." Fen turned away and pushed open the door.

She found herself in a long, dark hall, sloping gently downward and flanked by tall, flat-topped rocks that held crouched and mummified figures. Fen slowly passed the figures, looking up at them in wonder. Each one was surrounded by an odd greenish light whose source she couldn't detect, and there was an air about this place that was both eerie and peaceful at the same time. She had only gone a few paces past the hallway when she noticed a living skeleton running towards her, an algae-covered spear in hand. She stepped back, summoning a flame atronach, and let it reduce the skeleton to dust.

They continued through the burial cavern in silence, occasionally taking down a skeleton that attacked. Otherwise, Fen wondered at the burial rites of the Urshilaku. In one room, water covered the floor, dotted with round stepping stones of rock that held gilded boxes in which skulls were kept. In another, an enormous pillar rose to the cavernous ceiling, carved with niches that were home to crouched mummies and their belongings. She could easily become rich off the amount of loot in the caverns, but she remained resolute and touched nothing, working only towards her goal.

Finally, in a small room filled with chests that spilled out gold, they found a robed spirit floating near the back of the room. When it had fallen into a pile of dust, the dust reshaped itself and formed a bow that glowed once, then darkened again, solidified. Fen reached down and picked it up, feeling at once that this was surely the Bonebiter bow that Sul-Matuul had spoken of.

"Fen? Can I talk to you for a minute?" Fen looked around at Julan, surprised.

"What is it?"

"I've been thinking. About a lot of things, really, but...uh...mainly about this whole Imperial spy…false Incarnate...thing." Fen said nothing. "You lied to me about being a spy for the Emperor, and I'm still not happy about that. And I'm not happy about you agreeing to pretend to be Nerevarine for the Emperor. But –"

"I'm not _pretending _anything," Fen said hotly. "I'm being _tested_."

"SHUT UP!" he shouted suddenly. "I'm trying to _explain_ something here!" Fen raised one eyebrow and Julan continued. "So...as I said, I've been thinking. And I've been trying to imagine what I would have done, if I had been in your position. And I don't really know. I probably would have shouted a lot and ended up getting thrown back into jail. Um…so...it occurred to me that maybe what I would have done in your situation wouldn't have been a good idea."

"Where are you going with this, Julan?"

"If you'd let me finish, I'd tell you! Sheogorath, I can tell you're not going to make this easy for me!"

"You're not trying to apologize, are you?"

"N...maybe...I don't know! All I know is that I tried to think about why you might be doing what you're doing, and...I suppose it's not your fault the Emperor is trying to manipulate you. And I can understand why you would want to find out what's going on. And..." He faltered.

"And?"

"And...um...I realized that this can't be easy for you either. And...uh...maybe I haven't exactly been making your life any easier."

"Too true," she muttered.

"You're right. So...yes, I suppose I am trying to apologize. For shouting at you, and for not listening to you, and for not thinking about your side of things. And for generally being a thoughtless, self-centered, immature bastard."

"I don't know, maybe you should be a bit more apologetic."

"Sheogorath, what do you want me to do, stab myself?"

"That would be a start, yes," she answered scathingly. For a moment, he just stared at her in disbelief, than her face broke into a smile. "I'm kidding!" she said, and he let out a relieved breath. She hugged him. "You're forgiven."

"Good," he said as Fen tied the Bonebiter bow to her pack. "Let's get that bow back to Sul-Matuul, then."


	15. Chapter 15

"This is my father's bow," Sul-Matuul said, taking the Bonebiter bow reverently in his hands and gazing up at the ceiling of the yurt, his eyes closed.. "You have completed the initiation rite. I name you Fen, Clanfriend of the Ashlanders." He held the bow out to her, and Fen took it carefully and strung it across her back. "Keep it, and bear it with honor. You are a friend of our tribe, and may rest in any Urshilaku bed, but do not harm other tribe members, or take their things. And now I will fulfill my other promise. Go to the wise woman's yurt, and Nibani Maesa shall examine you, and test you against the Nerevarine prophecies."

"Thank you," Fen said, and they left the yurt. "Here," she said to Julan, pulling off the Bonebiter Bow and holding it out to Julan.

"What? But this is yours! You earned it!"

"You earned it just as much," Fen answered. "Besides, I can't shoot a wall if it's right in front of me. It'll be better off in your hands." Julan took the bow with a kind of veneration. He pulled off the shoddy chitin bow he had been using and dropped it unceremoniously on the ground, replacing it with Sul-Senipul's. "Now, do you know which one is the Wise Woman's yurt?" Fen asked, glancing around the camp. The ashstorm had clearly hit and passed while they were in the burial caverns, and the sky was a weak, ashy brown now, the remnants of the storm hanging limply in the air.

"The big one with the rug outside," Julan said, pointing, and they paused outside.

"Can we just go in?" Fen asked nervously.

"The ashkhan invited you," Julan said simply, so Fen anxiously drew back the flap and doubled over to enter.

Nibani Maesa was a small Dunmer woman in stature, but her presence seemed to flood the wide yurt. She wore a simple robe of tanned guar hide and wore her snowy white hair in two braids on either side of her face. She looked young, but there was a knowing in her face that made it clear she had seen well beyond her years. She looked up as they entered, for she had been sitting cross-legged before the fire in the center of the yurt shifting a plate of bones around on her lap.

"So." She set the plate down and stood up, coming over to them. Fen felt a chill race up her spine as the Wise Woman's penetrating gaze passed over her. "They've told me of you, Outlander. Or, shall I say, Clanfriend. You are hard-headed. And ignorant. But perhaps it is not your fault. My lord ashkhan says you will ask me about the Nerevarine prophecies. He also says I will test you against the Nerevarine prophecies. I must do as my lord ashkhan says. So ask your questions, and I will test you." She spared a brief, heavy glance at Julan, which made him shrink back slightly, then went to a crate and took out two large square cushions, which she laid down beside the round one she had been sitting at.

"There are many Nerevarine prophecies, and they suggest many things," Nibani Maesa said as Julan and Fen sat down. The Wise Woman picked up a clay kettle on a table and filled the cooking pot with water. "Aspect and uncertain parents. The moon-and-star. Sleepers. Seven curses. The curses' bane. The prophecy of the Stranger. The prophecy of the Seven Visions. The lost prophecies." She sat back on her cushion, setting the kettle down, and studied Fen with her dark, probing eyes. "I am the wise woman. Ask your questions. And I will answer."

"What is 'aspect and uncertain parents'?" Fen asked.

"Tell me, Clanfriend, do you know your parents?"

"My father…" Fen paused. Speaking of Helseth was painful still. "I do not speak to my father anymore. And my mother…" Fen thought back. She had always been told that her mother was a minstrel's daughter. But who had told her that? Her nurse-mary, her chambermaid, her father. People that had always lied to her. And when she had asked her grandmother, Barenziah had shaken her head. "I don't know who my mother was."

"If what you say is true, you are indeed born on a certain day of uncertain parents. This is part of the prophecy. But many have the same birthday, and many are not sure of their parents. It is interesting. But it does not make you the Nerevarine."

"Then what is the moon-and-star?" The phrase sounded familiar to her, like a song one might know from childhood but had since long forgotten the verses.

"Legend says Indoril Nerevar's family standard bore the moon and star, and Nerevar's armor and weapons bore this sign. Some say he bore a moon-and-star birthmark. Some say he has a magic ring marked with a moon-and-star. Others say he was born under a moon-and-star. In any case, I think the moon-and-star is the mark of the Nerevarine, and you do not have this mark. So you are not the Nerevarine." Fen immediately felt relieved. She knew there hadn't been much of a chance of her fulfilling the prophecy, and she was glad that the burden of Morrowind was not for her shoulders to bear.

"You mentioned Sleepers," she continued, knowing Caius would still want information. "What are they?"

"Rumors say that in the towns, mad cultists called 'sleepers' are attacking people, saying that Dagoth Ur has awakened, and will drive the outlanders from Morrowind. Perhaps it is just a coincidence. But I think it is a sign of the Nerevarine. Not necessarily a sign that _you_ are the Nerevarine," Nibani added pointedly, removing the kettle from the fire as steam began to pour from its mouth. She made a fluid motion and three clay mugs rose up from the table and drifted over to her. "Perhaps the time of the Nerevarine has come. And you have come at the same time. This is not passing a test," she continued, pouring hot water into the mugs and crushing tea leaves into each one. "But it may mean you have some part to play in the coming of the Nerevarine."

"So these people have gone mad?" Fen asked, accepting a clay mug from Nibani as Julan did the same.

"Yes," Nibani answered. "Their minds have been twisted by Dagoth Ur's tricks, and they do not know what they are saying."

"But they know my name," Fen said suddenly, remembering the man in the green robe and the old woman in Vivec. Julan shot her a sideways glance. "They've spoken to me. How do they know who I am?"

"Perhaps Dagoth Ur has placed your name in their heads and sent them to find you. This could mean that you are the Nerevarine. It could mean that you are not." She didn't seem to want to elaborate from this cryptic statement, so Fen went on.

"What are the Seven Curses?"

"It is another Ashlander prophecy of the Nerevarine. It is called 'The Seven Curses of the Sharmat.' But I do not know it, and I know no one who does. It may be lost. Such things happen. A wise woman dies, or forgets, or a clan is wiped out. Perhaps someone knows, but is keeping it secret. Perhaps it is in one of those many books of your settled peoples. I have heard that the Dissident priests of the Temple may have such books."

"And the Stranger?" Nibani smiled knowingly, an expression that seemed out of place on her lips, and closed her eyes.

"This is the best known of the Nerevarine prophecies. We call it _The Stranger_:

"_When earth is sundered_

_And skies choked black_

_And Sleepers serve the Seven Curses_

_To the hearth there comes a Stranger_

_Journeyed far 'neath Moon and Star._

_Though stark-born to sire uncertain_

_His aspects mark his certain fate._

_Wicked stalk him, righteous curse him,_

_Prophets speak, but all deny._

_Many trials make manifest_

_The Stranger's fate, the Curse's bane_

_Many touchstones try the Stranger_

_Many fall, but one remains._"

There was silence for a long time while Nibani sat poised with her eyes closed and all that could be heard were the cracking of the flames. Nibani's voice echoed in Fen's mind. _Many fall, but one remains._

"What does it mean?" Fen asked when Nibani had opened her eyes again.

"I am not sure. Urshilaku children can recite it by heart. It has been in our tribe for centuries. But wise women are unsure of its meaning." Fen was reluctant to move on from the cryptic verse, but it was clear the Wise Woman had nothing more to say concerning it.

"What about the Seven Visions?"

"The full title of the prophecy is 'Seven Visions of Seven Trials of the Incarnate'. Listen, and I will tell you the verses:

"_Seven trials_

_What he puts his hand to, that shall be done._

_What is left undone, that shall be done._

_First trial_

_On a certain day to uncertain parents_

_Incarnate moon and star reborn._

_Second trial_

_Neither blight nor age can harm him._

_The Curse-of-Flesh before him flies._

_Third trial_

_In caverns dark Azura's eye sees_

_and makes to shine the moon and star._

_Fourth trial_

_A stranger's voice unites the Houses._

_Three Halls call him Hortator._

_Fifth trial_

_A stranger's hand unites the Velothi._

_Four Tribes call him Nerevarine._

_Sixth trial_

_He honors blood of the tribe unmourned._

_He eats their sin, and is reborn._

_Seventh trial_

_His mercy frees the cursed false gods,_

_Binds the broken, redeems the mad._

_One destiny_

_He speaks the law for Veloth's people._

_He speaks for their land, and names them great._

"What does this prophecy mean? It tells us who the Nerevarine will be, and the trials he must undergo before he fulfills his destiny. Some parts I understand. Some parts I do not. But I cannot pretend to understand it all.

"The Incarnate cannot fail," Nibani continued, her voice sharp with sudden severity. "What others have tried, he will do. What Nerevar started, the Incarnate shall finish. That is what the 'Seven Trials' verse says. The first trial refers to your birthsign – to your birth on a certain day to uncertain parents, just like in the Stranger prophecy. I am not sure what the Second Trial means. Will the Nerevarine come as a spirit who is not harmed by blight or age? I don't know. But I think Curse-of-Flesh means the blight disease corprus, which causes terrible, distorted growths on its victims. Perhaps the Nerevarine can heal this disease. Perhaps that will be a sign of the Nerevarine."

"And the Third Trial? The caverns of Azura's eyes?" Nibani fixed her with an odd stare whose meaning she could not read.

"In legend there is a shrine to Azura called the Cavern of the Incarnate. There are secrets I may not tell you about this cavern. Do not ask." Nibani paused and moved her hand again – this time a thin, dust-coated book rose from an open chest and drifted over. The Wise Woman opened it to a certain page and held it out for Fen and Julan to see – the page was a crude drawing of a figure raising a sword before an enormous group of people. Banners stuck out from the crowd, bearing different Daedric letters.

"Now, the Fourth Trial. A 'Hortator' is a war-leader chosen when Dunmer great houses must put aside their normal feuds to unite against a common enemy. This has not happened since the Empire invaded our land," she said, nodding to the drawing. She closed the book and set it carefully aside. "And the Fifth Trial. The Ashlanders are sometimes called the Velothi, for the prophet Veloth who guided us to this land many, many centuries ago. And the Four Tribes are the four tribes of Vvardenfell, the Urshilaku, the Ahemmusa, the Zainab, and the Erabenimsun. It would truly be a miracle to unite these four tribes who have so long raided and warred with one another. But the Nerevarine must be one who performs miracles.

"I am not sure what the Sixth Trial means. 'The tribe unmourned' may mean the Sixth House, House Dagoth, which was exterminated after the Battle of Red Mountain. But it may also mean the Dwemer, or the Dwarves, as Westerners call them. And 'eating sin' is doing atonement for another's sin.

"And the Seventh Trial. 'The cursed false gods' must be the Tribunal. They are surely false gods, evil sorcerers and necromancers, and they murdered Nerevar so they might set themselves up as gods. 'Binds the broken' must refer to Nerevar's broken promise to the Ashlanders to honor the ways of the Spirits and rights of the Land.

"The 'One Destiny verse says this: Veloth's people are the Dunmer, all Dunmer, Ashlander and Great House. The last time the Velothi were united were with Nerevar at the Battle of Red Mountain. Now Nerevar will come once again and unite the Dunmer. He will restore Morrowind to the Dunmer, and restore the former greatness of the Velothi people. That is all I know of the Seven Visions."

"And what of the Lost Prophecies?"

"We do not have every prophecy concerting the Nerevarine," Nibani said, a touch of unhappiness in her otherwise unwavering voice. "There are many more, but the words have not been known for many years. The Seven Curses. And others. Some are forgotten. Some hidden. Some deliberately lost. The wise women are the memory of the Velothi people. But it is a faulty memory, and we are mortal, and our knowledge dies with us. But we hear that the Dissident Priests of the Temple study our Nerevarine prophecies, and record them in books. Such written words never die. You must go to them and ask for these books, and bring what you find to me.

"Now, Clanfriend, I am sure you wish to know: _do I pass the test_?" She smiled and set her teacup down. "Ask, friend, and I will tell you." For a moment, there was silence, save for the flames crackling gently. Then Fen cleared her throat.

"Do – Do I pass the test?"

"You are not the Nerevarine," she said simply, and Fen felt the sense of relief again. "You are one who may become the Nerevarine." At this, something flipped over in her stomach – she couldn't tell if it was surprise or dread. "It is a puzzle, and a hard one. But you have found some of the pieces, and you may find more. Do you choose to be the Nerevarine? Then seek the lost prophecies among the Dissident priests of the Temple. Find the lost prophecies, bring them to me, and I will be your guide. And take these copies of the Stranger and the Seven Visions," she added, opening the book again and extracting two grubby sheets of parchment, which she handed to Fen. "Now. I have told you all I know. Go. Think on what I've told you. And do what must be done." Wordlessly, Nibani Maesa stood up and went to the tent flap, holding it open for them to leave.

"So Nibani says you aren't the Nerevarine!" Julan said brightly as they came back outside. Night had fallen thickly while they were inside, and the camp was dark and quiet. "No surprises there. Shall we get back to adventuring?"

"She said I'm not the Nerevarine, but I could become the Nerevarine," Fen muttered, taking out the rolled-up tent and walking to an empty spot beside another yurt. "Odd."

"Well, that doesn't really mean anything," Julan said quickly as Fen unrolled the tent and stood back. She cast a simple spell and the tent raised itself up, rather clumsily. "The way these prophecies work, anyone who fits the description _could_ be the Incarnate in theory, but only one person will actually achieve it," Julan told her earnestly, bobbing behind her as she finished the spell. "That's how we have failed Incarnates. Like the verse said, 'many fall but one remains.'"

"Maybe the lost prophecies could tell me more," Fen muttered to herself, ducking down and entering the tent, Julan close behind her.

"Oh, they probably don't even exist. It's a waste of time. Can't we just go and do some guild jobs or something?"

"But don't you want to know what the lost prophecies say?" Fen asked, kneeling down and lighting the firepit in the middle of the tent. It flared into life and the tent was bathed in a cozy yellow glow. "They might help you figure out what you need to do next."

"Hmm...that's a good point! And now that I think about it..." A slow smile crept over Julan's face. "You pretending to be the Nerevarine might not be such a bad thing!" Fen opened a basket in the corner and found an extra bedroll, which she tossed to Julan.

"What does that mean?" she asked warily.

"It means that the Temple and everyone else will be focusing on you as the Incarnate, and assuming I'm just a companion, when it's actually the other way around!"

"Oh, so I get to be your decoy?" Fen said dryly as Julan sat down on the bedroll and pulled off his boots.

"Oh, don't be like that. We make a good team, don't we? This is going to be great, you'll see! Is there any food in there?" Fen cast him an exasperated glance and reached for a wicker basket.


	16. Chapter 16

Late the next morning, Fen rolled up the tent and sent Julan back to Ald'ruhn, telling him to meet her in Balmora. She set a mark in the Urshilaku camp, figuring she would be coming back again, then recalled to Caius Cosades' doorstep. It felt strange to be in the squalour of the back corner of Balmora again after her long trek through the lonely, wind-beaten Ashlands.

"Good work, Fen," he said as she carefully related all Nibani Maesa had told her to the Spymaster. "Sounds like you being the Nerevarine is a possibility, doesn't it?" Fen touched Julan's telepathy ring on her hand, hoping he wasn't listening. The ring was cool. "Anyway, let me try to get word to Mehra Milo. Maybe she can find out whether the Dissident Priests have any lost prophecies. But in the meantime, I have a very tough assignment for you. Do you think you're ready?" Fen blinked.

"I…I don't know. What is it?"

"_I _think you're ready, and that's all that's important," he said, stumbling over to his lockbox again and counting out a few coins. "But just in case, I'm going to give you four hundred drakes." He handed her the coins. "Before you head out, make sure you outfit yourself with healing potions, new gear, a little training, whatever you think you need most. And remember: if you get in trouble, back off, rest up, and go back fresh. Don't get cocky. I think this will be a tough one." Fen nodded slowly, not liking the direction Cosades's words were going in. "Here's your mission: Fort Buckmoth sent a patrol to Gnaar Mok, hunting smugglers with Sixth House connections. They found a Sixth House base, a Sixth House shrine, and a Sixth House priest named Dagoth Gares. Speak to Champion Raesa Pullia at Fort Buckmoth; she'll tell you about the patrol and the Sixth House base. Your orders: find that Sixth House base, kill Dagoth Gares, and bring me a full report on the Sixth House base."

"You want me to clear a Sixth House Base?" Fen repeated incredulously. "On my _own_?"

"You can bring that little Ashlander friend of yours along. What's her name? Julia?"

"Julan," Fen said distractedly.

"I don't care. But I want this done as soon as possible, Fen. I need information about these bases." He fixed her with a firm glare. "No side jobs, Operative." He pointed wordlessly to the door and Fen exited Caius's house, her mind still turning, to find Julan waiting for her just outside.

"So what did the Skooma-head want?" he asked cheerfully. Fen didn't answer for a moment. Julan's smile faded. "Fen?"

"He wants me to clear a Sixth House base."

"_What?_ Fen, he couldn't have – by yourself?"

"You're coming," she replied quickly. "You have to. I can't do this alone."

"Of course I'm coming," Julan answered confidently. "I just can't believe he gave you something that stupid!"

"Quiet," Fen muttered, taking his arm and directing him away from Caius' house, down the street. "He knows what he's doing. He thinks I'm ready."

"Where is it?"

"Near Gnaar Mok," Fen said, starting towards the Mages' Guild. "But we need to go by Fort Buckmoth first. One of the officers there is going to tell us what happened." Trying not to think of what lay ahead, they started the short walk out of Balmora under a steel-grey sky.

It was almost noon when they entered Buckmoth Legion Fort, an Imperial garrison that stood a short walk from Ald'ruhn. Inside, they were directed to Raesa Pullia, a muscular Imperial woman with a hardened face who was writing a letter in her office. She looked terribly out of place there – like she would be much more comfortable holding a sword rather than a quill.

"You're Fen," she said at once, looking up as they entered. "Caius Cosades sent you, didn't he? He says you're the one to handle this Sixth House base near Gnaar Mok."

"Hopefully."

"Only one trooper returned," Raesa said immediately, setting down her quill. "He died soon after, horribly disfigured with corprus disease, and out of his wits. In his ravings, he spoke of a cavern on the coast – he called it 'Ilunibi.'" She shuffled through a stack of parchment, then threw her hand up. "It's not on our maps; try asking locals in Gnaar Mok. They fought with cultists and disfigured man-beasts – corprus monsters, I think. They fled the attackers and got lost in the caves. Then they ran into a half-man creature named Dagoth Gares.

"This Dagoth Gares slew the rest of the patrol, but spared the one trooper. He told the trooper he was being spared, so he might tell others that 'The Sleeper Awakes,' and 'The Sixth House has Risen,' and 'Dagoth Ur is Lord, and I am his Priest,' and 'All will be One with Him in the Flesh.'" She rolled her eyes. "Dunno what the hell was wrong with him, but he was stark-raving mad. None of it made many sense." _It makes too much sense, _Fen thought uncomfortably. _Neither blight nor age can harm him; the Curse-of-Flesh before him flies. _"The trooper awakened outside the caves and returned here. We couldn't recognize him, and he didn't respond to questions...just kept rambling on like a madman until he died.

"I've heard of corprus disease before, but never seen it. The trooper's flesh was swollen and covered with growths. His bones twisted and lost their shape. He spoke to himself, as if in a dream. We didn't recognize him at first, except for his clothing and armor. The fort chaplain tried spells and potions, but couldn't cure the disease. He died soon after he reached the fort. Didn't realize how fast corprus kills. It sure wasn't pretty. The troops seem shaken." She sighed heavily and leaned forward on her elbows. "I'm a little worried myself, to tell the truth. Haven't seen anything this bad since I joined the service. Poor fellow was a complete mess."

"Your legion hasn't cleared a Sixth House base before?"

"Of course we have," Pullia snapped. "It's just – never been this bad. All the other ones have just been filled with crazy cultists. This is the first time that a…well, a _creature _has come out of one. I guess I just thought corprus was something that was out there, but wouldn't ever affect me." She rubbed her eyes exhaustedly. "Reality's a bitch," she murmured distractedly.

"Can you tell us how to get to Gnaar Mok?" Fen asked, not wanting to picture the legionnaire who had returned, completely twisted and disfigured by Blight.

"Gnaar Mok is an island fishing village on the Bitter Coast, roughly west of Caldera and Ald'ruhn. Have you got a map?" Fen pulled it out and handed it to her, and she made a rough dot on one of the tiny western islands off the coast. "There's no marked route to Gnaar Mok from Ald'ruhn. It's no easy trip." She turned the map around so Fen could see it and moved the nib of her quill along the path. "At the Gnisis-Balmora-Ald'ruhn signpost, go south, then immediately west on a side road to Drulene Falen's cottage. Then head cross-country west to the coast, with the old Dunmer stronghold at Andasreth as a landmark. When you hit the coast, turn south. Follow the coast, wading around headlands when necessary. Pass a shipwreck. When the coast levels out and turns from barren rock to green swamp, you're in the Bitter Coast region. Keep south, with the water on your left, until you see Gnaar Mok, an island just off the coast. There's a crude plank bridge through some rocks to the island itself. It's a rough place, popular with adventurers, smugglers, and outlaws, but maybe someone in Gnaar Mok can tell you how to find the Ilunibi sea caverns."

Pullia waved them out, and they stood under a grim, slate-grey sky on the hard-packed dirt of the exterior of the Fort.

"This should be fun," Julan muttered offhandedly.

"We have a long trip," Fen said, glancing up at the sky. "We might as well get moving." And so they began to follow the route Pullia had sketched out for them. Soon the dusty cobbles beneath their feet turned to sluggish mud and rain began to drizzle on and off, filling the air with a damp chill and making the swampland around them churn lazily.

"I hate the Bitter Coast," Fen snarled, yanking her boot, with an unpleasant _squelch _from the mud.

"I didn't realize there were people who don't," Julan said, looking bemused as she pulled her other boot out of the slop on the paths.

"Shut up, Julan," Fen snapped, pulling the hood of her cloak lower over her face.

"You need to relax," Julan said at once, flicking up his own hood as the rain began to patter on the thick leaves overhead once more.

"What, you want me to pretend that this will be easy?" she said harshly, starting to trudge through the muck with Julan at her heels, splashing up tiny brown tears of mud with every step.

"No," he replied simply, "but I don't want you to worry too much. We're smart people, Fen. We'll get through this all right."

"An entire troop of legion soldiers died in there," she muttered, her voice partly lost in the loud symphony of insects that bred in the cesspools of muck around them.

"That doesn't mean we will," he said pointedly, and Fen gave him a sharp look that silenced him at once.

"We'll be there in about an hour," she said, turning to face forward again. Soon the mountains on either side dropped away and they were surrounded by slime-covered vines and coated in a hazy, dull green glow by the shading leaves overhead. Before long, during a dry spell in the inconsistent raining, they spotted a ship's mast a short ways away, and not long afterward a small jumble of ramshackle huts nearby.

They started across a narrow bridge made of a single half-rotted plank that had been laid between the coast and the next little island. They followed two more of these crude bridges until they reached Gnaar Mok, which was merely a collection of thatched-roof shacks made of warped gray wood and a few misplaced-looking Velothi-style buildings.

"What a pleasant little town this is," Julan muttered. There were only a few people out, as a storm was drawing ominously closer with every minute. Those who were outside were mostly Dunmer in worn clothes, balefully going from one place to the next. A little Breton girl in a faded pink pinafore and a dark-haired Dunmer boy were kneeling by the water a little ways away, prodding a makeshift toy sailboat that was rocking slightly with the motion of the waves. Fen noticed a Dunmer woman with red hair that was turning grey staring at them, and Fen approached.

"Pardon, sera," she said, and the woman looked over Fen's mud-splotched robe and Julan's armor critically.

"Who are you? More Hlaalu representatives come to tax us again?"

"No," Fen replied. "We're here to have a look at the Sixth House base nearby. Ilunibi."

"Ilunibi Caverns. That's what they call the old sea cave up on the north end of the island, right on Khartag Point. Don't be poking your nose in there. Someone might object."

"Khartag Point?"

"It's on the western coast, not far from here. It's a gigantic boulder. Some of the Orcs consider it a landmark. Why, I don't know. Some Orc or another jumped off on a dare. It didn't end well." Thunder rolled through the sky overhead and the woman glanced up. "Be seeing you," she muttered, and went down to the coast to take the hand of the little boy there, whom she led into one of the shacks. The Breton girl was gone. Fen glanced around and realized everyone was gone but the a few people at the dock who were busy tying up the single travel vessel that bobbed in the water there.

"You'd think they would get used to storms, living here," Julan said, and they left the silent village and started across a path of plank-bridges that led across a small chain of islands. "Is this it?" They had reached the last island, which was no bigger than one of the shacks in Gnaar Mok. A large, rounded rock stood at its head, though that was the only notable thing about it.

"Here," Fen said, walking towards the boulder. A door was built into its base, rough-hewn and sea worn, and Fen saw someone had carved words into the wood. _ILUNIBI. CARCASS OF THE SAINT. _"This was just put here," she muttered, running her fingers over the words.

"Is this it?" Fen looked up at Julan. He was staring at the door with trepidation in his face, looking slightly sick.

"This is it." She straightened up and pushed open the cavern door.


	17. Chapter 17

The inside of Ilunibi looked like any other cavern. There was a sudden, steep drop right at the entrance and a waterfall into a small underground pond, then a low hallway beyond that. They levitated down past the waterfall and entered the hallway, which quickly let out into a much larger area.

The cavern split off in three directions, two tunnels on either side that curved out of sight and one smaller room right ahead. Fen could see a campfire burning there. The floor here was flooded up to their ankles.

"I think –" she started, but she was cut off by a sudden angry cry from the room with the campfire. Then there was a silhouette of a man sprinting towards them, his front in the darkness but a club visible in his hand. Fen started to prepare a spell, but there was a subtle _swish _past her ear and he grunted and fell backward with a splash, a quivering arrow visible in his chest. Fen looked over at Julan, who was holding the Bonebiter bow.

"I told you you would do better with that bow than I would," she said, smiling, but Julan just lowered the bow and glanced around, his face pale. Fen led the way down one of the twisting halls and they found another door, this one freshly carved into as well. _TAINTED MARROW. _Just inside the door, Fen saw a tall, but hunched-over figure walking slowly away from them. She nudged Julan, who nodded and aimed carefully with the Bonebiter bow. The arrow hit the creature in the back and it gave a high-pitched snarl and turned. The sight before her nearly made Fen gag. It looked like it had once been a Dunmer, but its mouth was wide and slack and its ears were low and oddly drooping. The worst part though, was that its eye sockets were merely empty black sockets, as if the eyes had been gouged crudely from within the skull.

The arrow didn't seem to do much but agitate the creature, and Fen managed to finish it off with a fire spell before it reached them. The floor here was dry, and it fell on the ground with a simple _thud_.

"What the hell was that?" Julan muttered. He went to examine the corpse, but Fen stayed where she was, glancing around. On either side of the hallway they had entered into, red candles had been melted onto the rocks, and they somehow cast a crimson glow on the walls around them so that the only light in the tunnel was a deep, ominous scarlet.

"I think I've seen these before," Julan said, turning over the creature with his boot. "Not in real life. Just drawings in my mother's books. They're called 'ash zombies.'" He glanced up at her. "This place doesn't feel right, Fen."

"We'll be fine," she said quickly, reassuring herself as much as Julan. "See how easily we got rid of that thing? We'll be fine." They continued cautiously through the tunnel, meeting more of the ash zombies mingled with Daedra and a few Bonewalkers. When they came to the next door, labeled _BLACKENED HEART, _Julan hung back slightly.

"We should turn back, Fen," he said. "I have a terrible feeling about this place. You don't understand." But Fen _did _understand. She had the same feeling. A kind of dread mingled with an impossible horror.

This area, too, was lit with red candles, and they moved through it as methodically as they had the rest of the caverns – rarely talking, cutting down whatever creatures came across their path. There were men here too, Dunmer men that were stark naked and carried clubs that screamed cryptic messages about the Sixth House before they died. When these men appeared, Fen always hung back and let Julan dispatch them with a well-placed arrow.

They were nearing the end of the caverns when the tunnel they were in moved suddenly upward. Stairs carved from black stone stretched up and out of sight, and they were lined with large braziers carved from black obsidian. An odd feeling hung around the stairs, and Fen went up them almost defiantly. Her mind felt almost blank, and she somehow knew that she was expected to turn back at the stairs. Julan followed her reluctantly.

At the top of the stairs, there was a single door, a door that carried a sense of finality with it. _SOUL'S RATTLE. _Fen didn't stop, but pushed it straight open and came through to a short hallway with one tunnel off of it, the tunnel's mouth lit with braziers. A sort of faint red smoke seemed to be spilling from this tunnel. Fen went straight towards it and turned.

The tunnel was not a tunnel at all, but rather a low-ceilinged room. The center of the room was dominated by an obsidian-carved altar that carried a tall statue in its center. The statue had the vague shape of a human, but Fen couldn't make out what it was meant to be properly through the gloom. Tall black pylons surrounded the altar, carved with small niches that held more of the red candles. At the back of the room, six black metal bells hung from a red bar that stood on a low dais. The air in this room tasted sour, like blood in her mouth, with that odd, metallic tint. A feeling of dread was building in her heart, swelling so that it might burst. And it nearly did when a tall figure stepped from behind one of the pylons.

He was clothed in a long gray robe that fell simply to his bandaged feet, and his hands resembled those of a Dunmer. It was his face, though, that told Fen he was far from human. Where his eyes and nose should have been, a short trunk protruded, hanging limply down past his jaw. His mouth, like those of the ash zombies, was slack and wide, a misshapen gash across his face. The creature stepped forward, opening its arms in a gesture of welcome.

"Fen," Julan whispered frantically, suddenly grabbing her arm. "Fen, this is bad. This is the thing I've seen in my dreams. We have to get out of here. This is _bad._"

"The Sixth House greets you, Lord Nerevar," it said in a harsh, many-layered voice that echoed around the cavern's walls. "Or Fen, as you call yourself in this life. I am known as Dagoth Gares, priest of Ilunibi Shrine, and minister to Sixth House servants. My Lord, Dagoth Ur, has informed me of your coming. I wish that this time you had come to honor your Lord's friendship, not to betray it."

"Dagoth Ur informed you?" Fen said, and Julan's grip on her arm tightened. Her voice sounded strained, nervous.

"Dagoth Ur is the Awakened Lord of the Sixth House, come to cast down false gods, drive foreigners from the land, and restore the ancient glory of Morrowind. He bids you come to Red Mountain." Dagoth Gares took a few steps toward her. "For the friendship and honor that once you shared, he would grant you counsel and power, if only you would pledge that friendship anew. The path to Red Mountain is long, and filled with danger, but if you are worthy, you will find there wisdom, a firm friend, and all the power you need to set the world aright."

"The Sixth House is dead," Fen said, trying to ignore the fact that her legs were shaking.

"The Sixth House was not dead, but only sleeping," Dagoth Gares replied darkly. "Now it wakes from its long dream, and with its Lord, Dagoth Ur, it comes forth to free Morrowind of foreign rulers and divine pretenders. When the land is swept clean of false friends and greedy thieves, the children of Veloth will build anew a garden of plenty in this blighted wasteland.

"Ilunibi shrine is just a small, quiet retreat for Sixth House servants, a place to contemplate and grow strong and wise in Lord Dagoth's ways. Here we share the sacraments of flesh and blood, and dream the dreams of our Lord. This and other lesser shrines are hidden from prying eyes throughout the land. But the greatest shrines of Sixth House servants lie beneath Red Mountain, in the citadels of our Lord and his close kin."

"And the servants?" Fen asked sharply. She sounded firmer now, and this encouraged her. "If Dagoth Ur wants me to join him, I don't think he should be sending his monsters to kill me." The wide mouth formed something of a grin.

"Forgive the rude welcome, but until you have declared for us, we must treat you as our enemy. The Sleepers and Dreamers are newly come to Lord Dagoth, and not yet blessed with his power. But the Children of His Flesh, they are deep in the heart of his mysteries. Their bodies swell to contain his glory, and to yield the rich sacraments of our Lord's feasts. And we are the least of his servants, for Ash Poets, Ascended Sleepers, and Ash Vampires stand high above us in the Lord's bountiful grace."

"Fen," Julan whispered as Dagoth Gares went on. "_We have to get out of here._"

"Now, Lord Nerevar," he boomed suddenly. "Lord Dagoth gives me these words to say to you, so you may give them thought. 'Once we were friends and brothers, Lord Nerevar, in peace and in war. Yet beneath Red Mountain, you struck me down as I guarded the treasure you bound me by oath to defend. But, remembering our old friendship, I would forgive you, and raise you high in my service.'

"My Lord Dagoth bids you come to Red Mountain. For the friendship and honor that once you shared, he would grant you counsel and power, if only you would pledge that friendship anew." He tipped his head to her in something of a gentlemanly gesture. "I am not your Lord Dagoth, yet I, too, would say to you...do you come with weapons to strike me down? Or would you put away your weapon, and join me in friendship?

"And now, Lord Nerevar, I believe that you have come here to slay me. Perhaps if I am first, I will be allowed to deliver your soul to Lord Dagoth in person, so that you may be reborn within him." Quite suddenly, Dagoth Gares raised his hands and sent a fire spell spiraling across the room towards her. It was moving too quickly to counteract, so Fen seized Julan's arm and leapt to the side, falling, sprawled, on the ground, while Dagoth Gares laughed. She fired a frost spell at him from the ground, and it hit him squarely in the chest. The ash ghoul stumbled and Julan took this chance to leap up and offer his hand to Fen, who slapped it away and shouted "Just go!"

She quickly stood up and ran forward, ducking low to avoid Julan's arrows, and groped blindly, unable to see clearly in the gloom. She caught his arm and clenched it tightly, a drain health spell shivering through her body and then into his. He slapped her away and she scrambled to her feet again, this time summoning a frost atronach to help them. The atronach stormed forward, its bright blue light contrasting wildly with the dim red of the cavern, and Fen moved back to stand with Julan, firing spells at a safer distance. When the atronach faded and Dagoth Gares was peppered with arrows, Fen ran forward again and shoved him roughly so he was against the wall. She started to place her front two fingers on her forehead, to finish him off with a frost spell, but he spoke suddenly, startling her and making her falter.

"Even as my Master wills, you shall come to him, in his flesh, and of his flesh."

Before she could touch him, Dagoth Gares crumpled to the ground, and at the same time Fen felt a sickening sensation ripple through her, followed by a pain in her head that felt like someone had just bludgeoned it.

She fell to the ground in agony, in too much pain to make sound, and then, just as suddenly as it had come, the pain was gone, replaced by a weak pounding in her head.

"Fen?" She looked up. Julan was there, kneeling on the ground beside her, his eyes glimmering in the dim red light. "You okay?" Fen stared at him for a moment, then looked down at her hands. They looked discolored, strange. "Fen?" Julan's voice sounded like it was coming from a million miles away. He took her shoulder and shook it slightly. When she didn't reply, but continued to stare at her hands, he seized one and held it inches away from his face in the gloom.

"My head hurts," she finally said. Julan looked up at her slowly, his face pale.

"Fen…this happened to someone I knew in Vos once. Their skin got all red like this and they had a headache." He looked back down at her hand, then at her face. "The next day they turned into a corprus monster." The words echoed chillingly in her mind, growing louder and louder with each repetition. _Corprus monster. Corprus monster. Corprus monster. _

"Does that mean…?"

"That bastard," Julan said in a terrified whisper, glancing at Dagoth Gares' body. "That _bastard _gave you corprus." With these words, it became final, and Fen felt as if the whole world was crashing down around her, leaving nothing but Fen, standing in the middle of nothingness surrounded by floating dust. It took her a moment to realize Julan was still speaking.

"…serious form of blight disease. A lot of Dagoth Ur's minions can transmit it, so Mother made me drink these foul-tasting herbal concoctions for a week to make me immune. Damn!" he said suddenly, dropping her hand and smacking himself in the forehead. "Why didn't I think to make her do the same for you?" There was a long silence, then he looked up at her. "They...they say it's incurable. And..." Julan swallowed. "…always fatal. Fen, I'm so sorry. I...I don't know what to say."

"Go back to Balmora."

"What?"

"Go back to Balmora. Tell Caius what happened."

"What? No, Fen, I'm not leaving you here!"

"Just go, Julan! You can't stay here. I won't let you be here with me when I've got corprus. You said it yourself, it's extremely contagious!"

"Fen, I'm not going to leave you in this hell-hole," Julan said angrily.

"GO BACK!" she shouted, and her voice startled both of them, echoing around the empty caverns. For a long moment, they just glared at one another, then Julan cast recall and was gone, leaving Fen alone in the dark red light of Ilunibi.

Time passed. She lost all sense of it. She had no idea how an hour differed from a second, how a year differed from a day. She lay in the darkness of Ilunibi, her head propped up on the edge of the dais with the bells, doing nothing as she felt herself spiraling slowly out of sanity. The world became blurred and distorted, thoughts that did not make sense came into her mind. She went through long periods of blackness, and when the blackness cleared she would be somewhere else in the caverns, confused, and would lay down on the ground, her head aching. Once, after one of these black periods, she found herself outside, standing in water up to her waist. She splashed to the spongy shore and collapsed there, having no inkling of where she was. The next time she opened her eyes, she seemed to have miraculously traveled for miles and miles, for she was standing on a low gray cliff in the Ashlands while an ashstorm whipped her hair around her face. The pain in her head magnified every time this happened, and when she looked at her skin, sores and raw patches had begun to form there. After one dark period, she found herself crouched before a pool of live lava in the Ashlands, gnawing on one of her own hands. At this point, she realized that there was an unpleasant burning on one finger that came from a ring there, and she threw it off. Sometime after this, she fell into darkness that didn't seem like it would ever end, that stretched on for what Fen was sure was eternity.

"Fen!" She was jerked out of the darkness quite suddenly, and she turned and saw the face of a Dunmer man. He looked achingly familiar, but her mind was utterly blank. "Gods, we were about to give up, Fen," he said, and he pulled her into an embrace, then seemed to remember something and stepped back. She stared at him blankly. "Oh! Gods, I'm an idiot," he muttered, and he took something out of his bag. She closed her eyes. The movement was hurting her head. "Drink this." She opened her eyes slowly and saw he was holding a potion out to her. When she did nothing, he thrust the potion into her hand, seeming unwilling to touch her for too long. She looked vacantly at the potion, and he mimed putting it to his lips and drinking. Like a child, she mimicked him, spilling the liquid down the front of her robe, which had become torn and muddy during the black periods. Slowly, the world began to piece itself together again, and thoughts rushed back into her empty mind.

"Julan!" she said, recognizing the man, and a relieved smile broke out across his face. She tried to hug him, but he stepped back.

"Do you remember what happened?" he asked.

"I – I have corprus," she said suddenly. She looked down at her hands. "Did you cure it? Did you find a cure?"

"No," he answered regretfully. "Caius Cosades gave me that. It's supposed to slow down the effects of corprus. So you have your mind back for a few more days." Fen looked around, taking in her surroundings for the first time. They were in the Ashlands, and she could see the eerie glow of Ghostgate in the distance.

"How long have you been looking for me?"

"Days," he replied. "Let me see…we went to Ilunibi last Tirdas. It's nearly Sundas."

"Oh, Gods," Fen muttered, rubbing her head. "What…what did you do?"

"I went to Caius," Julan said darkly. "As much as I didn't want to. When you didn't come back and you wouldn't answer your telepathy ring, I told him what happened and he sent me and a few more of those Blades people out to track you."

"I threw away the telepathy ring," she said suddenly. "I felt it getting hot, but I didn't know what it meant, and I threw it away. Oh, gods, I feel like an idiot."

"It's fine," Julan replied, rummaging in his bag – _Fen's _bag – for something. "We can get my mother to make you another one, easy. Ah, here it is." He pulled out two scrolls of Divine Intervention and handed one to Fen. "Caius us to take you straight back to Balmora once you've been found," he said. "And the guild guide for the Ald'ruhn Mages' Guild finally came back, so you don't have to try and stomach the silt strider."

"Oh, thank Gods," Fen murmured, and she cast a sideways glance at Julan. He looked relieved beyond belief, but there was a sad hopelessness in his eyes, a look that chilled Fen and stayed burned in her mind the entire way to Ald'ruhn.


	18. Chapter 18

The sky over Balmora was bleak and dark when they stepped out of the Mages' Guild. Julan had given Fen a plain dark robe with a hood to wear, both of them agreeing that it would be best if her affliction was kept a secret. Fen followed Julan across the River Odai with her head bowed, the hood pulled low over her disfigured face. When Julan knocked on the Spymaster's door, Fen was surprised to see he let the two of them enter and did not throw Julan out again.

"We've had a job looking for you, Operative," he growled, shutting the door on the darkness behind them. "Been tracking you all over the damn island for nearly a week."

"I didn't want to give anyone corprus," Fen answered, feeling stupid. She pulled down her hood and couldn't help but notice the involuntary shudder that passed over both men at the sight of her. She felt weak.

"Well, I researched a possible cure just in case you did get it, and you run off on me. For gods' sake, Fen, just come back here when you finish duties and we'll figure things out for any problems you met along the way. Now, with Dagoth Gares dead, the Sixth House shrine is no longer a threat. You've more than earned a promotion to the rank of Traveler. I'm very worried that you have corprus disease. But I have some good news in that department," Caius said, staring hard at Fen. "I learned that your best chance of getting cured is Divayth Fyr, an ancient Telvanni wizard who runs a Corprusarium for victims of the disease." He went over to the bed and bent down, groping beneath it, then coming back up with a dented Dwemer coherer, which he handed to Julan.

"Take this Dwemer artifact and go to Tel Fyr. Divayth Fyr will like the Dwemer artifact. A gift may sweeten his disposition. So get moving, and get that corprus disease cured. Then hurry back. I think I know how to get the lost prophecies Nibani Maesa asked for."

Fen was exhausted, but determined to be rid of the disease as soon as possible. She and Julan took the guild guide straight to Sadrith Mora, where they water-walked together across the dark, flat waters of Zafirbel Bay.

Tel Fyr was, like all other Telvanni towers, grown from a mushroom. It was a lonely tower on a small island in the Bay, rising up high into the night with its strange, twisting spires and pulsating lights from within minute holes in the marshy walls. There was a single boat, a blue-sailed sloop, moored just outside, but it was empty, bobbing gently in the barely-moving water. There was a small, round door set low to the ground, and Julan pushed it open, letting them into a low-ceilinged tunnel with an uneven floor bathed in the yellow glow of lanterns.

"This is why I'm not a Telvanni," Fen muttered to Julan as the crouched to avoid a vine that hung down from the ceiling. "These towers are impossible to move around in." They had only just gone a few paces when a bright-faced Dunmer woman came around the corner, almost bumping into them.

"Good day!" she said cheerfully. Her hair was a vivid, almost unnatural red, her eyes unusually bright, her skin oddly stretched-looking. "Are you here to plunder the dungeon? Have you got corprus disease? Did you want to talk to Divayth Fyr?"

"We'd like to speak to Divayth Fyr, yes," Fen said, pulling her hood lower over her face.

"Was he expecting you?"

"Yes," Julan interjected before Fen could speak.

"Go right ahead then," the woman said brightly. She stood aside to let them pass. "Up that ramp there to your left, then through to the Tower of Fyr. Fly straight up and turn around, his study is right there."

"Thank you," Fen said, and they followed the ramp she had gestured.

"Did she say 'fly straight up'?" Julan muttered as they crouched to go through another small round door.

"Telvanni wizards don't use stairs," Fen said, coming to stand at the bottom of a long chute that led upward. "They just fly around their towers." Julan rolled his eyes as they levitated up the chute, then touched the ground again on a broad landing. "Here," she said, glancing down a hallway that had a plaque with _LORD DIVAYTH FYR _on it nailed into the wall. The hallway let out into a small round room with a brilliantly high ceiling, held up by pale crystals that pulsated with energy. The walls were lined with shelves, and a man in Daedric armor sat at a table poring over a book with his back to them.

"Excuse me?" The man looked around and Fen saw he had a bright, jolly face, though there was something sinister in his eyes. He stood up grandly and spread his arms, grinning.

"Welcome, friends, to the Corprusarium! How can I – ah, interesting Dwemer artifact you have there, lass." Fen had just pulled the Dwemer coherer out of her bag. "What can you tell me about it?"

"It's a gift, actually," she said, holding the coherer out to him.

"A gift? For me?" he asked, feigning surprise and plucking the coherer from her hands. "How thoughtful." Divayth Fyr smirked slightly. "And shrewd. I suppose you know I am a collector. And that such a gift is bound to please me. I congratulate you on your diplomatic skills." He chuckled to himself and dropped the coherer unceremoniously by the table. "So, why have you tried to butter me up? Come to consult the great Divayth Fyr? You have the divine disease? Want to plunder the dungeon? Or leer at my daughters?"

"Your daughters?" Fen said, her purpose momentarily forgotten, thinking of the odd-haired Dunmer woman they had encountered.

"Ah! My lovely daughters! Not bad for something born in a jar, eh?" Fen blinked. He had made his daughters in a jar? "Charming and talented," Fyr was going on. "Not daughters, really. A little project, a side benefit of my researches into corprus disease. Made them myself, from my own flesh. Nice, aren't they?" He started ticking names off his fingers. "Alfe Fyr, Beyte Fyr, Delte Fyr, and Uupse Fyr. Quite a comfort to me in my old age." Divayth Fyr winked and chuckled to himself. "So! What can I do for you?"

"Can you tell me about corprus?" Fen asked, not quite wishing to know any more about the daughters.

"The magical principles of corprus disease are elusive and miraculous, far more subtle and powerful than any conventional sorcery or enchantment. I'm persuaded that it is in some manner the curse or blessing of a god. Perhaps both a curse and a blessing," he added as Fen tilted her head skeptically towards him. "The victim, of course, cannot appreciate the marvelous nature of corprus. It saps the mind and destroys the body. But to a wizard, it is a profound and glorious mystery, a riddle worth a long lifetime of study. Have _you _got the divine disease, dear?" Fen bit her lip. She took hold of her hood and drew it slowly back. Just behind Divayth Fyr, she could see her reflection – her skin was warped, covered in sores and raw patches, her eyes bloodshot, her hair tangled and matted around her face. She could barely recognize herself. She saw Julan's reflection wince behind her.

"How interesting," Divayth Fyr said, stepping forward and tilting back her chin to examine her face. "Did you know that corprus makes you immune to disease? Have you ever heard of the prophecies of the Nerevarine?"

"Briefly."

"Ashlanders say the Nerevarine will be immune to disease. I've always thought, 'Maybe I have the Nerevarine down in my Corprusarium, and I don't even know it." He released her chin, grinning. "Ha! The Nerevarine is a fat, disgusting corprus monster, and mad as a marsh rat. Wouldn't that be funny?" He let out a great, whooping laugh and slapped his knee.

"I may fulfill the Nerevarine prophecies," Fen said crossly, more to stop his laughing than anything else. Julan elbowed her sharply.

"You might be the Nerevarine," Fyr repeated, sounding unimpressed. "Means nothing, of course. Corprus victims have all sorts of delusions. But...let me think..." He went to one of the shelves and rummaged through the bottles there, muttering. One slipped off the shelf and smashed on the carpet, but he paid it no mind. Finally, Divayth Fyr extracted a small, dark brown bottle with a red seal over the mouth.

"I've got this potion," he said, shaking the bottle a little for effect. "In theory, it should cure corprus. Doesn't work, though. Probably kill you. Killed all my test subjects. But you've got nothing to lose." He slipped the potion into his cuirass. "Before I give it to you, I want you to look around below in the Corprusarium. Know what's in store if you don't take the potion. And while you're there, I want you to pick up a pair of boots from a victim, calls himself Yagrum Bagarn. My oldest patient. Handy fellow, fixes things for me. Bring the boots back, and then you can have the potion." He smiled and shooed them away, and they levitated back down and walked down to the lower levels of Tel Fyr.

"What an old n'wah," Julan said scornfully as they pushed open the door to the Corprusarium and came out into a very dark cavern with a tall wooden gate at one end. A fully-armored Argonian man stood at the gate.

"I am Vistha-Kai, Warden of the Corprusarium," he growled as they approached the gate. "I am here to warn you: do not harm the inmates. If you come to plunder the dungeon, you must endure their attacks, and take your chances with me, their Warden and Protector." The Argonian crossed his arms, his eyes glittering in the dimness beneath his helm. "Lord Fyr shelters and maintains the victims of corprus disease here in the Corprusarium. He does them a great service, because no other could or would help them. He also does the world a great service by keeping them here where they can do no harm to others. The inmates are sad, distorted monsters, angry and cruel, and their sufferings are great, but they still live and feel, and I honor Lord Fyr's care and compassion for them." His reptilian eyes narrowed. "Do not harm the inmates. I will not tolerate you adding to their suffering. Indeed, they are brutal and ferocious, and they will kill you if they can. But you are their guests, and you may not harm them, or you will answer to me."

"Uh…Fen? Can I talk to you for a minute?" Fen turned and saw Julan was standing a little ways away, looking rather sick.

"What is it?" she asked, coming over to him. She saw him looking apprehensively at her and she drew the hood back over her face.

"It's just…I don't think I should come into the Corprusarium with you, Fen. I think I might get angry and attack one of them if they try to hurt you and…I don't want you to get in trouble for that. Do you think you'll be okay?" Fen's stomach flipped over. The thought of entering the Corprusarium on her own was frightfully daunting.

"Sure," she said uneasily, trying to sound nonchalant. "That's fine. Just wait here. I'll be back." Julan nodded, relieved, and she went back to the gate, which Vistha-Kai pushed open for her.

The Corprusarium consisted of a large network of cave tunnels inhabited by the swollen and deformed corprus monsters. All the tunnels were hung with a sickly yellow haze that hovered in the air like a tired moth. Everything stank of illness and rot.

The corprus beasts did not attack her, but she paused for a moment to watch the nearest one. Its body was lame and bloated, and as she watched, it buckled over and tore at the skin on its head, letting out terrible, bellowing roars and scratching open the scabs that had formed there. Blood and pus began to clot upon the creature's back, and it moaned weakly, curling into a prostate ball on the cave floor and rocking back and forth, cradling its bruise-coloured head.

Trying very hard not to think of herself coming to that state, Fen entered the next room, where a low wooden platform with a table and a wardrobe stood. A woman was standing on the platform, talking to…something. It looked, from the top, like a fat old man, but where his legs should have been, there were only six golden spider-like legs planted firmly on the wood and swaying slightly. Fen approached the platform slowly and both the man with the spider legs and the woman looked around.

"Yagrum Bagarn?" she asked tentatively, and the man chuckled.

"In the flesh!" he said brightly. Up close, he was even more grotesque. His scab-covered body drooped over the edges of the metal legs, and his face was flabby and slack around the greenish-black beard of tightly curled ringlets. His eyes, though, were bright and jolly, and he waved a fat little arm at her as she stepped onto the platform. The woman merely rolled her eyes and scoffed, going back to slicing what looked like raw meat on the table. The stench was nearly unbearable. "Old Fyr send you down to get the boots, eh?" the man said happily. "Uupse, would you be a dear and hand my friend those boots on the ground there?" The woman picked up a heavy-looking pair of Dwemer boots and held them out to Fen, who took them and found they were surprisingly light. "Lord Fyr obtained these enchanted Dwemer boots from an unfortunate thief," Yagrum Bagarn said. "And, given the quality of their craftsmanship, little wonder the fellow came a bad end. But I can do nothing for them. The fundamental enchantment is flawed. Might as well start over again...if such a pair of boots could still be fashioned in these benighted latter days. But I have done my best. Take them to Lord Fyr, with my sincere apologies."

"Yes," Fen replied distractedly, looking at his legs. "I'm sorry to be rude, serjo, but could I ask…what are you?"

"Good question!" Yagrum Bagarn chuckled. "I like to style myself as the last living dwarf, dear. Now, I do not know for a fact that I am the last. But in my travels thousands of years ago, I never encountered another. And since I have been here, I often ask Lord Fyr, but he says he has never heard a credible rumor of another Dwemer, on Tamriel, or in any Outer Realm." _The last living dwarf. _Edwinna would have killed to be in Fen's position right now.

"Can you tell me about the Dwemer?" she said eagerly.

"Oh, yes, child. The tales I could tell you of our glorious race! Once I was a Master Crafter in the service of Lord Kagrenac, chief architect of the great Second Empire freeholds, and the greatest enchanter of his time. I could not match the genius of Lord Kagrenac, but what he could envision, I and my colleagues could build. All of that is gone forever. I still retain my cunning, but my hands and eyes fail me, and my memories have long faded. My only consolation is each day to mock the gods who destroyed my race, and condemned me to this bleak existence."

"What do you mean?"

"Since the disappearance of the Dwarves, I have been alone in this world, trapped in this grim prison," Bagarn said, gesturing sadly to the moaning monsters around the platform. "I can scarcely move. And my fellow inmates are hardly good company. The risk of corprus disease deters most visitors. But if you meet with cultivated minds undaunted by the terrors of the Corprusarium, you might mention your recent interview with the last living dwarf."

"So does that mean…that you know how the Dwarves disappeared?"

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully, scratching his beard. "I cannot say what happened. I was not there to observe. I was in an Outer Realm at the time, and when I came back, my people were gone. I left Red Mountain, wandering Tamriel for years, searching our deserted colonies, looking for a survivor or an explanation. Then, a long, long time ago, I returned to Red Mountain, still looking for answers. Instead, I found corprus disease, and I have been here ever since. I have theories, if you are interested."

"Oh, yes," Fen said eagerly.

"You should go," the Dunmer woman snapped, but Yagrum Bagarn waved her off, smiling brightly.

"A scholar!" he chuckled Well, love, Lord Kagrenac, the foremost arcane philosopher and magecrafter of my era, devised tools to shape mythopoeic forces, intending to transcend the limits of Dwemer mortality. However, in reviewing his formulae, some logicians argued that side effects were unpredictable, and errors might be catastrophic. I think Kagrenac might have succeeded in granting our race eternal life, with unforeseen consequences – such as wholesale displacement to an Outer Realm. Or he may have erred, and utterly destroyed our race." He shrugged. "Scholars like yourself have other theories, but those are mine. Anything else for me, dear?"

"No," Fen said breathlessly. She could have easily stayed there for hours and talked to the dwarf, but she knew Julan would be worried if she dawdled too long. "But thank you. Thank you very much."

"You got the boots!" Julan said as Fen came out of the Corprusarium clutching them. "Excellent, now we can go get you cured…hopefully." He squinted at her through the gloom. "You are going to take the potion, aren't you?"

"I haven't got much else of a choice," Fen said as they went back up through the halls to the Tower of Fyr. "Have I?"

"No…but just…I don't know, Fen. I just hope it doesn't….you know…kill you."

"Thanks," she said wryly as they came into Divayth Fyr's study.

"You have the boots!" Divayth Fyr said cheerfully, taking them lightly out of her arms as they entered. "Now, the potion!" He took the little brown bottle out and broke the seal. "And now, I'll give you the potion, on the following condition: you must drink it here, before my eyes. It should act immediately, and I need to observe you very carefully. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Fen said, and Divayth Fyr passed the little bottle to her. "Cheers," she said, holding it up to Julan, then, before she could think about it, she swallowed the contents of the bottle in one drink. The first thing she felt was a terrible, gnawing pain in her stomach, as if she hadn't eaten in days. She collapsed, lightheaded, the room swimming before her eyes. Her skin began to burn as if she had just plunged into fire, and she screamed, unable to stand the terrible pain.

"My gods! It's working! _It's actually working!_" she heard Divayth Fyr shouting over her own cries. Then, very suddenly, everything stopped, and Fen lay weakly on the carpet, tears of pain brimming her eyes but the burning sensation gone. "Let me check your skin," Fyr said, kneeling down and seizing her chin, forcing it up. His eyes were wide with amazement. "Your eyes…your tongue…Amazing! Do you feel any pain? No? I think it worked! No sign of the disease at all." Grinning, he stood up and offered her a hand. Fen got shakily to her feet, her limbs aching as if she had just run for hours. "Of course, you still have corprus disease, just like I planned," Fyr went on, looking for something on his cluttered desk. "But all your symptoms are gone. Marvelous. I'll go try it out on some of the more desperate inmates." From between to reams of paper, the wizard suddenly pulled a small gilded hand mirror, which he handed, with a jaunty flourish, to Fen. Slowly, Fen turned the mirror around to see her face. It was as it had been before they entered Ilunibi, clean and smooth, unbroken by the harsh scars of Corprus. Fen brought a shaking hand up to her cheek, hardly daring to brush her fingers against it.

"Thank you," she murmured gratefully, handing the mirror back to Fyr. "I'm completely indebted."

"No matter, no matter," he said airily. "You're the Nerevarine or something aren't you? Don't you have to go drive off the Outlanders?"

"Something of that sort," Fen told him, and she and Julan left quickly. "I'm normal!" she shouted gleefully as soon as they were outside. Julan hugged her tightly. "This is fantastic." She looked down at her hands, which were blissfully clear of sores.

"He kept calling you the Nerevarine, though," Julan said as they started to water walk back to Sadrith Mora. "He obviously didn't really know what he was talking about." Although she didn't voice it, Fen wasn't sure Julan was right. She knew he regarded the Nerevarine prophecies as foolish superstitions…but Dagoth Gares had called her Nerevar. She glanced down at her hands again, her euphoria momentarily forgotten. She had been under the impression that she was simply meant to play the Nerevarine so that the Emperor could use her to gain the trust of the Dunmer…but now she wasn't sure.


	19. Chapter 19

Fen sat down on a driftwood log before the campfire and stared out at the dark waves, watching them crash into the tall vertical stones rising up out of the water. If she closed her eyes and breathed in the salty sea smell, she could almost imagine that she was on the beach of the Padomaic Ocean, where she had traveled with her grandmother for outings as a child. She had loved the ocean – the way the dazzling water stretched out thousands and thousands of miles, fading into whiteness on the horizon, starkly different from where it crashed up against the cliffs of Ghorne and fell back in on itself in a frothy white spray. She and her grandmother would sit on the beach for hours, Fen trying to find a pattern in the way the waves moved while her grandmother stroked her hair and told her stories of the Dawn Era.

"She's a bit angry, but she's made you another one." Fen was jerked out of her reverie by Julan leaving his mother's yurt. She opened her eyes slowly, not wanting to let go of the image. But she was back in the Azura's Coast at Kaushibael camp, ages away from the hours spent on the beach with her grandmother. Julan held his hand out to her, offering a copper ring with a blue stone set into it, a replacement for the ring she had thrown away during her bout with Corprus.

"Are you okay, Fen?" he asked as she slipped the ring listlessly on her finger.

"Fine," she lied, and stood up. "I should get back to Caius. He'll want to know I've been cured. Can you meet me at his house?"

"Sure," Julan said, and he cast her a somewhat anxious look before he teleported. Fen spared one more wishful glance at the stirring waves, then cast her own recall spell and found herself standing on the quiet, dingy backstreet of Balmora. She knocked once on Caius Cosades' door, then entered.

"Fen," he said, turning around quickly as the door banged shut behind her. She glanced around the room. It was not in its usual state of disarray – rather, there were two heavy trunks on the floor, one on top of the other, and the top one was open. The clutter in the room had been cleared away, most of the furniture gone, the tatty tapestries vanished, leaving bare, cracked stonework walls visible. Even the bedding had been stripped, leaving only a thin, stained mattress.

"Are you going somewhere?" Fen asked.

"I've had a bit of bad news," Caius said, cringing, as he took his lockbox off the shelf and dropped it unceremoniously into the trunk. "I've been recalled to the Imperial City. You'll be promoted to Operative, and will head the Blades here in Vvardenfell until I return."

"Wait – what?"

"Internal politics," Caius grumbled, now pulling a chest away from the wall to grope behind it. "Some concern about my sugar. I thought about refusing the recall. But they have members of my family back in the capital. I'm afraid it may have something to do with the problems with the succession." He emerged from behind the chest, holding a handful of dusty lockpicks and a couple rusted septims. "As the Emperor's health declines, factions are maneuvering for advantage," Caius continued, tossing the lockpicks and the coins into his trunk. "I may be gone a while – that's why you're promoted to Operative.

"That makes you the ranking Blades agent here in Vvardenfell district. As far as I know. There may be other Blades agents here I don't know about. It wouldn't surprise me. I may be gone a while. You can use the house until I return."

"And you want me to head the Blades?" Fen asked skeptically, thinking it would be very unlikely that she would ever sleep in Cosades's dilapidated house.

"There's nothing to it. Each agent has his own assignment, and reports directly to Cyrodiil. You're promoted to Operative mostly to preserve your independence. You're no fool, Fen." Caius banged down the lid of the trunk and locked it, then turned back to Fen with a heavy sigh. "The days of the Empire are almost over. When the Emperor dies, nine hells're going to break loose. Forget about the Imperial City. Think locally. Worry about the Sixth House and Dagoth Ur. And squabbles between the Great Houses and the colonists. The rest of the political nonsense doesn't amount to a plate of scuttle.

"Now, I have final orders for you. Continue pursuing the Nerevarine prophecies, as the Emperor commands. First, go to the Hall of Wisdom and Justice, and get Mehra Milo to help you find the lost prophecies. She's being watched; if something has gone wrong, find her private quarters; she'll leave you a message there under the code word 'amaya.' Then take the lost prophecies to Nibani Maesa. From that point, you'll have to follow her directions, and follow the prophecies." He patted her shoulder and offered her what Fen supposed was the closest she would ever get to a smile. "Good luck, Fen. You're a smart kid, and you've got what it takes to get along out there." With that, he took a firm hold of the trunks and activated a recall amulet he wore, disappearing in a shower of white sparks.

Fen glanced around the empty room. It still held the sticky odor of moon sugar in the air, but now she was used to it. She remembered when she had first entered Caius' house, how it had revolted her. Now the house looked even sadder than it had before.

She was about to leave when she noticed something under the bed. Fen knelt down and pulled out a book – _The War of the First Council._ She realized, suddenly, that this was one of the books Hasphat Antabolis had recommended she read, along with three others…Fen dropped her bag onto the flagstone floor and pawed through it, past enchanted amulets and bottles of potion and bound scrolls and a few books until she found a sheaf of parchment. She broke the seal around all the notes she had accumulated working with the Blades and shuffled through the papers until she found Hasphat Antabolis' notes. _Saint Nerevar. Nerevar Moon-and-Star. The Real Nerevar. The War of the First Council. _She vaguely remembered searching intently for the books for a few days before giving up and made a mental note to search for them again, deciding that they would be more useful now than ever.

Fen left Caius Cosades' house for the last time, closing the door on the familiar, sticky moon-sugar smell with a final-sounding bang. Julan was standing just outside, waiting for her.

"What's the old skooma head want you to do now?" he asked as she came down the steps outside his door and into the street.

"He's gone."

"What? He just _left _without telling you? What a –"

"No, he was there. But he went back the Imperial City. He was recalled." Fen tied the latch of her bag. "We have to go talk to Mehra Milo," she said, and Julan's face brightened.

"Oh, good, I liked her! What are we talking to her about?"

"The lost prophecies." Julan's face fell a little.

"Do you really think that's how we should be spending our time?" he asked skeptically, but Fen silenced him with a look. They made their way to the Eight Plates, knowing Ranis would not allow a non-guild member to stay the night in the Guildhall, and Fen paid for two rooms, feeling glad to settle into her bed for the first time in several days without the sickliness of Corprus…

_The golden-masked man stood far away from her, a glint of gold in the darkness, but his voice echoed in the large space. "Lord Nerevar Indoril, Hai Resdaynia! Long forgotten, forged anew!" The figure vanished and reappeared, closer this time. " Three belied you, three betrayed you! One you betrayed was three times true! Lord Voryn Dagoth, Dagoth Ur, steadfast liegeman, faithful friend, bids you come and climb Red Mountain!" Again, he vanished, then suddenly he was directly before her, the slits in his golden mask boring into her eyes, the long fingers reaching out towards her, the breath shallow and the sound of a long, slow heartbeat echoing around the space. "Beneath Red Mountain, once again, break your bonds, shed cursed skin, and purge the n'wah from Morrowind!"_

Fen's eyes opened and she realized she was covered in a cold sweat. She was about to light the candle and pour herself a drink to still her shaking hands, but she stopped when she noticed the figure framed by light, slowly pushing open the door. It was crouched low, naked save for a cloth around its middle, and only a dark, hollow space where its eyes should have been. An ash zombie.

Fen quietly cast a silencing charm on herself to make her every move soundless, then slipped out of bed and landed gently on the floor on the other side as the creature hobbled into the room and shut the door, throwing it into total darkness. All she could hear was its heavy breathing and its shuffling footsteps as it crossed the room to the bed. Fen stayed low to the ground, crawling around the bed as the ash zombie leaned over it, blindly moving its hands across the pillow, searching for her. She stood up directly behind it and, without a second thought, grabbed its shoulders, throwing it roughly to the ground. It let off an inhuman shriek and tried to stagger to its feet, but Fen subdued it with a fire spell. It made one last feeble attempt to rise, then slouched and crumpled on the ground, staying still for a brief moment before bursting into a pile of humanoid-shaped ash. Fen lit the candle on the bedside table, spots from the bright spell in the dark room flashing before her eyes. There was a sudden pounding on the door and she jumped as it sprang open. Julan leapt into the room, his jinkblade aloft, looking around wildly until he spotted the distinctly shaped ash on the flagstones. Fen quickly tied her dressing gown around herself and walked past him, shutting the door.

"What happened?" he asked, lowering the jinkblade. "I heard fighting."

"I woke up and it was coming into my room. An Ash Zombie."

"Gods." He stirred the ash with his foot, his face dark. "These things were in Ilunibi." He looked up at her, his expression uneasy. "Why would Sixth House go after _you_?"

"I don't know," she answered quietly, looking down at the dead zombie. _Maybe because I'm the Nerevarine, _she thought to herself almost sarcastically, but decided it would be better not to mention that to Julan.

"They were probably looking for me," Julan said after a moment. "Gods…sorry, Fen."

"It's fine."

They left early the next morning for Vivec, neither of them having gotten much sleep. Julan was unusually quiet while they took the gondolas to the Temple Canton, not ranting about the false gods as he often did when they visited the city.

"Hall of Wisdom," he muttered scornfully as they passed a glaring Ordinator and went inside. It was late in the morning by now, and the library was open. Fen, however, detected that something was wrong as soon as she entered. The atmosphere in the Library of Vivec was tense, and Mehra Milo was nowhere to be found. Fen didn't dare ask an Ordinator, but she did notice that there were several more of them than last time lurking around the shelves. Wordlessly, she grabbed Julan's arm and pulled him out of the Library.

"We have to find her room," she said quickly, hurrying down the hall to where three doors stood at the end of the hallway, each with a plaque outside it, To her relief, one of them was engraved with _MEHRA MILO – LIBRARIAN, _right beside _LLAALEM SENDAL. _The door was locked, however, and there was an Ordinator standing just down the hall. He noticed them hovering outside the door and came over.

"What are you two doing?" he growled.

"We're just waiting for our friend – ah – Llaalem Sendal." The Ordinator glared at them for another moment.

"I'm Llaalem, and I've never met either of you in my life."

"We – we were –" Panicking, Fen seized the Ordinator's arm and squeezed hard, casting a recall spell on him. Before he could protest, he had vanished in a shower of sparks.

"What did you do?" Julan exclaimed, though he looked rather pleased.

"Sent him on a bit of a vacation," she replied hastily, turning back to Mehra's door. "Let's hurry, he'll find his way back to Vivec before long." Fen quickly pressed her finger to the lock and it clicked and swung open with her Ondusi's Open Door spell.

The slipped inside and Julan quickly shut and locked the door behind them. It was a small room, simple, with a bed and dresser and table, all cluttered with personal belongings.

"Look for the word 'amaya,'" Fen said, picking up the pillow to peer under it. Julan opened a chest and began to rummage around inside. Fen went to the dresser, and found, sitting right on top of it, a note addressed to Amaya. "I found it," she said, and Julan pulled his head out of the chest while Fen picked up the letter and read it aloud.

"_Amaya,_

_Sorry I missed you. I had to run some old documents over to the Inquisitor at the Ministry of Truth, and I'm likely to be tied up there for a while. Why don't you meet me there as soon as you can? Then we can leave together as soon as I'm done. And Amaya, don't forget to bring me the two Divine Intervention scrolls you borrowed. Or, if you used them, buy a couple of new ones for me. I think I'm going to need them soon. Janand Maulinie at the Mages Guild in the Foreign Quarter keeps them in stock._

_Alvela Saram is the guard at the entrance; just tell her you're looking for me, and she'll let you in._

_your faithful friend,  
Mehra"_

Fen looked up slowly, lowering the note. Julan stared blankly at her.

"I don't get it."

"They've imprisoned her," Fen said, glancing down at the note again. "She's in the Ministry of Truth. _Damn _it_._"

"They have Mehra in the Ministry?!" Julan said incredulously. "We have to save her!" Fen returned the note to the dresser and they quickly went back outside. She looked up at the Ministry of Truth, the colossal boulder that hung, magically suspended, above the Temple of Vivec. It had supposedly been stopped from hitting the city by the god himself, but now it served as a prison for heretics. Fen and Julan made sure they were out of sight of any patrolling Ordinators and levitated up to the wooden walkway built onto the side of the enormous boulder, where they were stopped by a Dunmer woman wearing an Ordinator cuirass.

"I'm sorry," she said, stepping in front of the door that led into the Ministry. "No pilgrims allowed in the Ministry. I'll have to ask you to leave." She paused, as if noticing Fen's face for the first time. "But...you're not here to visit anyone, are you?"

"Mehra Milo," Fen said.

"Mehra said you would come," the woman said, dropping her firm tone to a whisper. She reached into the pocket of her greaves and pulled out a small key, which she slipped into Fen's hand. "I'll say you subdued me with magic and stole my key. It opens all three exterior doors – the upper back door is best. You'll need other keys for other doors inside. Search for the keys in desks; no one carries keys while on duty. Mehra is in Prison Keep in the cell on the far right. She said you'd bring scrolls to get out."

"I have them," Fen muttered, and the woman took her arm.

"Some of us are sympathetic to the Dissident priests, but kill an Ordinator, and you'll lose that sympathy. Now get going." She released Fen's arm and pointed around the walkway. Fen thanked her and went around the wooden walkway to the door she had mentioned.

"Julan," she said quietly, turning to him. "I think I should do this alone."

"What? No, I have to help you find Mehra!"

"I have a Chameleon amulet, Julan. I can walk straight past the Ordinators and they won't see me. And I'm worried you would snap and attack one of them."

"You're probably right," he admitted after a moment. "But you _do _have a Divine Intervention scroll, don't you?" Fen nodded. "I'll meet you and Mehra in Ebonheart, then. Just be careful."

"I will." Julan teleported and disappeared, leaving her standing alone outside the door. She found the Chameleon amulet in her bag and slipped it over her neck. She instantly became completely invisible and carefully slid the key into the lock and pushed open the door.

She found herself in a dark, wide tunnel carved into the rock with several more tunnels branching off. Fen shut the door quickly and kept the key in her hand in case she needed to use it again. While potent, her Amulet of Shadows had limits. If she happened to so much as brush against something other than her feet to the ground, she would immediately be visible again. Fen carefully laid the Amulet outside her robe, ready to activate it with another touch should the need arise.

There was another door at the end of the main tunnel, and she approached it and pulled it open just a crack so she could peer inside. There was an Ordinator standing guard on the other side, but other than that the room just looked like an office. Not what she was looking for. Fen quietly closed the door and picked one of the tunnels. She was halfway along this tunnel when she heard approaching footsteps from the other direction. She stopped walking and stood against the wall while an Ordinator walked past, mumbling to himself. When he was gone, she walked the rest of the tunnel and found herself in another short hallway with a door on the end. _PRISON KEEP _was carved into the wood of the door. Fen used the key to unlock it and entered.

The prison keep was an enormous cavern, so tall that the rocky ceiling in shadow. She stood at about the halfway point on a wooden platform. The platform moved downwards by a complicated pattern of rope walkways and bridges, then circled a low pit at the center of the cavern. There was a fire lit on the floor of this pit, with a few people in shabby clothes wearing slave bracers moving around it. There were also several cells here, with solid wooden doors that Fen assumed were firmly locked. She could see a guard's desk at some point on the walkway, but the platform was dotted with Ordinators, and she didn't want to risk accidentally bumping one of them – but casting a levitation spell would instantly render her visible again, so she was forced to creep along the boardwalk, doing her best to slip past the guards on patrol. She had nearly made it to the pit when an Ordinator suddenly appeared, recalling into the keep directly in front of her. Before Fen could divert herself, she had run straight into the Ordinator, and, glancing down, she realized she was visible once more.

A commotion arose almost at once. The recalled Ordinator seized her wrist, and she curled her fingers around _his _wrist, making him let go with a shock spell that made him reel backwards in sudden pain. Fen took the opportunity to dodge three more Ordinators that were approaching and roll under the rope of the walkway into the pit, quickly activating the Amulet of Shadows again. She became invisible, but now that the Ordinators were here they wouldn't let anything go unnoticed. Acting quickly, Fen located Mehra's cell – the farthest to the right – and unlocked it with a spell, slipping inside as the Ordinators' shouting still filled the keep.

Mehra Milo was at the end of the cell, pacing worriedly around a bedroll. She turned when she heard the door open, and her face broke out into a relieved smile.

"Fen!" she said, hurrying over, and she embraced her. "Do you have the Divine Intervention scrolls? I have an escape plan." Fen quickly found two scrolls and pulled them out, handing one to Mehra.

"We don't have much time," Fen said hurriedly, glancing over her shoulder. "I have a nasty feeling they saw me come in."

"I'll meet you at the secret Dissident priests monastery at Holamayan, then," Mehra said quickly, breaking the seal on her scroll and unrolling it. "For safety, we'll travel separately. When you get out of here, look for a woman named Blatta Hateria on the East Docks of Ebonheart. Tell her I sent you, and that you want to 'go fishing.' She'll bring you to Holamayan by boat. I'll meet you there, and we'll get the lost prophecies from Gilvas "Barelo, the leader of the Dissident priests. And magic conceals the Holamayan entrance – speak to Vevrana Aryon, a monk at the dock at Holamayan, about the hidden entrance. Make sense?"

"Yes," Fen said, and Mehra nodded. There was a loud bang on the door.

"Good. I'll see you at Holamayan," Mehra said quickly, and with that, she activated the scroll and disappeared. There was another bang and a splintering sound, and Fen quickly followed suit, appearing outside the Imperial Cult shrine in Ebonheart. Julan was standing there, leaning against a wall and talking to three pretty-looking young Dunmer women. When he saw Fen, he hurried over, leaving one of them in mid-sentence.

"You're okay! But…where's Mehra?" The Dunmer girls gave Julan an affronted look, then strutted away.

"She went before me, for safety," Fen said quickly, tossing away the used scroll. "We have to go to Holamayan."

"Bless you."

"It's the monastery of the Dissident Priests," Fen said, hurrying towards the docks, Julan following. "That's where Mehra told me to meet her. She said they can find the lost prophecies there." Julan rolled his eyes.

"Why are you bothering?" he asked, jogging to keep up with her. "Caius is gone, so you don't have to do what he says anymore. Let's just go do some guild jobs or something."

"The lost prophecies could help you," Fen said pointedly, knowing this would be the only way to get Julan to accompany her. He grudgingly agreed as they reached the docks, and Fen breathlessly approached the only person standing idly by a ship, an old Imperial woman wearing patched trousers. "Blatta Hateria?" she asked, and the woman smiled.

"Yes, dear? What can I help you with?"

"We'd like to go fishing," Fen said, and a knowing smile spread over the woman's face.


	20. Chapter 20

Frostfall was only just beginning to rear its head as Fen and Julan stepped into Blatta Hateria's long, blue-sailed sloop. It was dusk, and there was a heavy chill hanging in the air and atop the water. They settled themselves on the bench in the centre of the sloop, Fen hugging her arms to her sides for warmth, as Blatta untied the rope, coiled it up, and dropped it to the sloop's floor. "It's a long ride," she said, sitting down and taking the tiller as they pushed away from Ebonheart. The sky overhead had quickly grown dark, and the water was peppered with the reflections of stars. "It'll be nearly morning by the time we get there. Might as well take a bit of a kip." The night darkened quickly and the air was sharp and cold away from the insulation of the city. Taking Blatta Hateria's advice, Fen wrapped herself up in her cloak and laid down between two of the benches, lulled into sleep by the gentle rocking of the boat.

When she awoke, they sky was a very faint pink and the air was crisp and chill.

"Are we there?" she asked, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Julan was snoring loudly in the space between the benches behind her. Blatta chuckled.

"Nearly. You see those big cliffs up ahead? That's where we're headed." Fen sat down on the bench behind Blatta.

"Are you a Dissident Priest?" she asked.

"My daughter is," she answered. "I'm too old to care much about what the Temple does. But they needed a way for people to get to their monastery, so Selvia signed me up." She chuckled. "I don't mind, though. That Gilvas Barelo, the one who's in charge of them, he's a nice fellow. And it gives me something to do, me being as old as I am. Here we are." A small dock had just come into view, a wooden platform built out over the water with a second boat docked beside it, though this one had a mast that bore a white and blue striped sail. Blatta waved to someone who stood beside the boat, and the figure waved back. "That's Vevrana. She'll take you back when you're ready." Blatta checked her pocketwatch. "The tides were on our side last night. We got here early." She navigated the rowboat in next to the dock and the figure, who Fen saw was a robed Dunmer woman, took the rope Blatta tossed to her and tied the boat to the dock.

"Welcome to Holamayan," she said, offering a hand to Fen. Fen stepped out of the boat and onto the dock. "The monastery is here, on this island. Take the stone pathway north from the docks and the path uphill. The entrance is hidden by a magical shield. Wait or rest at the head of the path, and the portal will open at dusk and dawn only, the magical twilight hours sacred to Azura. Mehra Milo has told us of your coming. You can find her in the library with Master Barelo. Later, I can arrange for your return to Vivec whenever you are ready." She paused, glancing past Fen. "Is that your friend, Blatta?" Fen turned and realized Julan was still asleep in the boat.

"Julan!" she said, quickly going over and nudging him awake. He opened his eyes blearily.

"We there?"

"Yes," Fen said, offering him her hand. Julan climbed onto the dock, muttering. "Thank you," she added to Blatta, who grinned and started untying her boat in reply.

"You'd best hurry up to the monastery," Vevrana told her. "It's nearly seven. The entrance will close soon, and you'll have to wait outside all day."

"Thank you," Fen told her, and she hurried the half-asleep Julan up the path of round stones to a small clearing in the large rocks, where a large tower-like structure rose into the sky. There was a small door set into it, and they moved forward under the structure. Just as Fen was about to open the door, there was a loud grating and a huge shell closed over the entrance.

"Just in time," she muttered, and they entered Holamayan. There was strange air about the monastery. Fen felt warm and immediately relieved, as if all the weight of her duties had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders. They had entered into a large antechamber with several shrines set up around the room. A Dunmer man in a green robe was praying before one of them, his lips moving soundlessly and his eyes closed.

"Welcome, Fen." A young Imperial woman wearing a simple brown dress had been standing just inside the door. "I'm Selvia Hateria. My mother brought you here."

"Thank you," Fen said, shaking Selvia's hand. Their voices echoed within the tall ceiling.

"Mehra Milo told us of your coming," Selvia went on. "She is in the library with Master Barelo." She gestured to a small doorway leading off to one side. "You are welcome to rest in our beds and use our services while you are here." Fen thanked her and she and Julan went through the doorway and down a short flight of stairs into the library, a low-ceilinged room lined with books. A lectern holding an open book stood against one wall, and several large square cushions were stacked by a low table against another. As they came into the room, Mehra Milo entered from the other side with a tall Dunmer man in a red robe, the man holding a stack of papers and Mehra clutching three books in her arms.

"Fen?" the man asked. She nodded and he set the papers down on the table and extended his hand. "I'm Master Gilvas Barelo, the abbot of Holamayan Monastery. Thank you for helping Mehra Milo." He gestured to her, and she put down the books, then pulled four cushions from the stack, laying two on each side.

"I told Master Barelo that you are interested in the lost prophecies." Gilvas Barelo sat down with Mehra on one side of the table, while Fen and Julan sat at the other.

"And I believe we can help you with that," Barelo said, straightening up on the cushion. "I have reviewed the Apographa, and have found two passages of particular interest. We've made copies of these passages to give you." He pulled three sheets of parchment from the stack and slid them across the table to her. Fen looked down at the topmost parchment, written in a smooth, curling hand. "Many are familiar with the two Nerevarine prophecies current among the Ashlanders called 'The Stranger' and 'The Seven Visions.' We have two other prophecies, 'The Lost Prophecy' and 'The Seven Curses', that may offer additional insights into the riddles surrounding the coming of the Incarnate. Perhaps these are the Lost Prophecies that your friend Nibani Maesa told you about.

"We have also prepared a document for you called 'Kagrenac's Tools.'"

"Kagrenac," Fen repeated. "That was the Dwemer magecrafter that was in Lord Dumac's service, wasn't it?" Barelo looked impressed.

"You are a scholar of the Dwemer people, then?" Fen shook her head.

"I wouldn't call myself a scholar. Just interested."

"Well, then. This document will explain to you, and to others, the terrible secret that the Temple conceals about the true history of the Tribunal and the corrupt nature of their divine powers. It is to conceal this secret that the Temple persecutes the Nerevarine and the Dissident Priests." Barelo sighed. "This persecution must stop. We must be united against the true enemy, Dagoth Ur. And if you are the Nerevarine, you must lead us against him.

"Now," he continued, picking up a quill and reaching forward to point out a few places in the topmost parchment. "I've annotated your copy of 'The Lost Prophecy' with our best efforts at interpretation. But a rough summary might be: 'An outlander – foreign-born, but welcomed as a guest – confronts seven curses beneath Red Mountain. His hand, blessed by Azura, uses a cursed blade to bring justice to House Dagoth, or House Dwemer, or both.'" Barelo gave Fen a grim smile. "The Nerevarine? An outlander? That wouldn't please many Ashlanders, and may explain how the prophecy got lost." Fen felt Julan tense beside her. "Your copy of 'The Seven Curses' bears our guesses at interpreting the verses. In short form: Seven curses come from House Dagoth, or House Dwemer, or both. Fire and ash come from Red Mountain. Flesh is corprus. Ghosts, Seed, and Despair are unclear, but Curse-of-Dreams seems to refer to recent cases of soul sickness and Sleeper attacks in the towns."

"Can you tell me about the Apographa?" Fen asked. "I read _Progress of Truth,_ but it was a while ago."

"The Heirographa are the collected priestly writings of the Temple. The Apographa are the 'hidden writings' – secrets known only at the highest levels of priesthood and inquisition. Defying the Temple, we have gathered as much of the Apographa as we can here in Holamayan. One of the chief disputes between the Temple and the Dissident priests is that the Temple hides the truth from its followers." He sat back on his heels and sighed. "A significant part of the Temple hierarchy might be more inclined to accept and tolerate differences of opinion in dogma. But other parts of the Temple, in particular, the Ordinators under Berel Sala, claim that the threat from Red Mountain and Dagoth Ur can only be resisted with a unified, resolute faith. The people are afraid, so they support the hard line. But if we can show ourselves able to confront Dagoth Ur more effectively than the Ordinators, the Temple and the people will support us.

"Our interest in the Nerevarine used to be a matter of principle, a willingness to consider the validity of mystical insights rejected by Temple doctrine. Now, Dagoth Ur grows stronger while the Tribunal grows weaker, and the return of Saint Nerevar, even if only reborn in spirit, may be our best prospect of salvation.

"Oh, and we pulled these books from our library." Mehra Milo pushed the three books she had been holding across to them. _Saint Nerevar. Nerevar Moon-and-Star. The Real Nerevar. _"We thought they may be useful to you. Do you have any other questions?"

"No," Fen said, closing the papers inside the cover of _Saint Nerevar. _"Thank you for your help though. Immensely."

"Think nothing of it," Master Barelo said, standing. "It is our duty to the people. Now, if you will excuse me." He bowed his head politely and left the room.

"I didn't get a chance to thank you properly," Mehra said, rising and smiling at Fen, her coppery eyes shimmering. "But I am eternally grateful. Azura knows what they would have done to me if I hadn't gotten out."

"Will you stay here?"

"Yes. I'll help Master Barelo with the library. And I'm very glad to have been a help to you."

"We'll put things right," Fen assured Mehra, and Julan let out a loud, exaggerated sigh and walked away, looking aimlessly around the library. Fen ignored him. "You don't deserve to be in hiding for the rest of your life."

"I should certainly think so," Mehra told her with a smile.

"Fen?" Julan said loudly from the other side of the room. "Can we go now?"

"Thank you again," Fen said quickly to Mehra, and she went to meet Julan. "Quiet, will you?" she hissed. "This is a _temple._"

"Quite a good one, too, if they're giving you rubbish like that." Fen seized Julan's hand and they recalled to Balmora. Fen held tight to his hand, pulling him away from the thick of the morning crowd.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it looks like the lost prophecies were a waste of time," Julan told her simply. "Ouch, let _go,_ Fen," he added, wrenching his hand from her grasp and starting towards the Eight Plates.

"What's that supposed to mean, 'the lost prophecies were a waste of time'?"

"I was hoping I might get something useful from them, but it looks like they were lost for a reason. Just more stupid poetry that makes no sense."

"Are you saying this because they say the Nerevarine will be an outlander?" Fen asked, stopping in the road to stare at him.

"Oh, who knows what they claim," he said uneasily. "They're prophecies, it's their job to be vague about everything."

"It seemed pretty clear to me."

"Well, that's why it's stupid nonsense, isn't it?" he said angrily. "Of course the Incarnate isn't going to be an outlander. And you shouldn't forget what we're doing here – you're only _pretending_ to be the Nerevarine to help me – we agreed that! I'm sure all this attention is very flattering for you, but just keep in mind what's important, okay?"

"And what is _that _supposed to mean?" Fen said coolly.

"Look, I don't want to talk about this anymore, all right?" He stormed past the Eight Plates and around a corner, presumably on his way to the South Wall. Fen, only slightly irritated, bypassed the Eight Plates as well and went into the Mages' Guildhall, where she found a small office was empty. She sat down at the desk, spreading the papers and books she had been given around her. She started with the annotated copy of _Kagrenac's Tools._

_Beneath Red Mountain, Dwemer miners discovered a great magical stone. By diverse methods, Lord Kagrenac, High Priest and Magecrafter of the ancient Dwemer, determined that this magical stone was the heart of the god Lorkhan, cast here in the Dawn Era as a punishment for his mischief in creating the mortal world. Determined to use its divine powers to create a new god for the exclusive benefit of the Dwemer, Kagrenac forged three great enchanted artifacts, which are called "Kagrenac's Tools." Wraithguard is an enchanted gauntlet to protect its wearer from destruction when tapping the heart's power. Sunder is a enchanted hammer to strike the heart and produce the exact volume and quality of power desired. Keening is an enchanted blade that is used to flay and focus the power that rises from the heart._

_When Kagrenac used these tools on the heart in the Battle of Red Mountain, no one knows what happened, but the Dwemer race disappeared entirely from the mortal world. Lord Nerevar and Lord Dagoth retrieved these tools, and didn't know what to do with them. Nerevar asked Dagoth to guard the tools while he went to consult with his counselors, Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil. He left and spoke with his three counselors, and they decided to return together to Red Mountain to decide what to do._

_But while Nerevar was gone, Dagoth was tempted and confused by the powers of the tools. When Nerevar and the counselors arrived, he refused to give up the tools, claiming he had sworn to Nerevar to protect them. Then Dagoth fought with Nerevar and the counselors, and was mortally wounded and driven off, and the tools were recovered._

_Then Nerevar and his counselors decided to take the tools for safekeeping. They all swore a great oath never to use the tools, but after Nerevar's death, Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil yielded to temptation. They took these tools themselves and went to Lorkhan's heart buried beneath Red Mountain, and gave themselves divine powers._

_But Dagoth had not died. We don't know what happened, but this is what we believe. His experiments with Kagrenac's Tools had joined him to the heart's divine nature in some way, so that he learned to draw power directly from the heart._

_We conjecture that Dagoth Ur, driven by anger and greed, used the heart without caution and restraint, and, as a result, he has become terribly powerful, and terribly mad. But the Tribunal showed great care and restraint in their use of the tools, and so they were not driven mad, and they did many good things. Nonetheless, the Tribunal, too, appear to heave been corrupted by the heart's power, though more subtly._

_Kagrenac's Tools are cursed. Stealing power from the heart of a god is a terrible folly, and fated to disaster. The Tribunal is losing its battle to control the power of the heart. They are sustained by the same tainted power that drives Dagoth Ur mad. They grow weak, and cannot protect us from Dagoth Ur. But even if they could, would we be wise to worship gods such as these? They conceal the truth from us out of shame. They persecute the Nerevarine and the Dissident priests out of shame, when they should be welcoming them and enlisting their aid against Dagoth Ur._

_The Tribunal have done much good for Morrowind and the Dunmer. But they succumbed to the temptation of Kagrenac's Tools, and though these tools once may have seemed the instruments of salvation, now they must be seen as instruments of doom._

Fen set the parchment down and rubbed her eyes. Dagoth Ur and Nerevar had been friends. And the Tribunal, whom she had worshipped dutifully all her life…were fake. They were corrupt and power-seeking, stealing their divinity from this Heart of Lorkhan. She thought of all the times she had heard Almalexia praised while living in Mournhold. The goddess' good deeds were preached all across the city, and it was considered to be ruled by her and her Temple as well as Fen's father. The idea that she was a fake defied everything Fen had grown up with. Sighing, she turned to _The Seven Curses._

_through the doors of the unmourned house  
where scoffers scoff and schemers scheme  
from the halls of the oath-breaking house  
rings seven curses of gods blasphemed_

_first curse, Curse-of-Fire  
second curse, Curse-of-Ash  
third curse, Curse-of-Flesh  
fourth curse, Curse-of-Ghosts  
fifth curse, Curse-of-Seed  
sixth curse, Curse-of-Despair  
seventh curse, Curse-of-Dreams_

_Notes_

_Lines 1-3: Ambiguous. May refer to the impiety of the god-mocking House Dwemer, or the treacherous diplomacy of the subtle House Dagoth, or both. House Dagoth, however, was reviled as oath-breakers for their treachery at Red Mountain. It may, however, refer to unspecified broken oaths of peace between Lord Nerevar and Lord Dumac, founders of the Grand Council. Nerevar and Dumac were loyal friends until the disagreements between the Dwemer and the other Great Houses broke out in open conflict._

_Line 4: The Dwemer were the mockers and profaners of the divine._

_Lines 5-6: The curses of fire and ash would come from Red Mountain where Dagoth Ur rules. These were the earliest reported threats from Red Mountain._

_Line 7: Curse of flesh suggest blight diseases, especially corprus. The fire and ash storms preceded the threats of blight and corprus._

_Line 8-10: Obscure. May refer to as-yet-unrecognized threats from Dagoth Ur._

_Line 11: Recent reports of soul sickness and disturbed dreams come from townsfolk and Ashlanders alike. That the seventh and final curse has begun suggests the threat presented is about to reach a crisis._

So the Dwemer had been evil as well. This came as a shock to Fen, who had always felt so at home in the Dwemer ruins. But…she scanned the document again. Perhaps they had not been altogether to blame. It seemed as if Kagrenac had been the one responsible for their disappearance, and that was after he had tapped into the power of the Heart. So perhaps it was this Heart of Lorkhan that corrupted people. Fen set _The Seven Curses _aside and slid _The Lost Prophecy _over to her. This was the one that she had been waiting to read.

_From seventh sign of eleventh generation,  
Neither Hound nor Guar, nor Seed nor Harrow,__  
But Dragon-born and far-star-marked,  
Outlander Incarnate beneath Red Mountain,  
Blessed Guest counters seven curses,  
Star-blessed hand wields thrice-cursed blade,  
To reap the harvest of the unmourned house._

_Notes_

_Lines 1-3: 'Of ancient family, but not of the four great Ashlander clans. Born under foreign stars and the sign of the Dragon - the Imperial sign.'_

_Line 4-5: 'Outlander Incarnate' appears as a formal epithet, stressing the linkage between the words. The Outlander Incarnate is a 'blessed guest', one not born of the tribes but accepted as a guest with rights of hearth and hospitality. Under Red Mountain he will confront and balance against seven curses. See the 'Seven Curses' prophecy; also, Dagoth Ur is served by his seven kin, once great wizard-lords, called 'ash vampires' by the Ashlanders._

_Line 6-7: 'Star-blessed' suggests Azura, the Daedra Lord and patron of magic, fate, and prophecy. 'Thrice-cursed blade' may refer to a weapon called Keening, associated in certain legends with the Battle of Red Mountain and Dwemer craftlord Kagrenac. 'Reap the harvest' is a reference to the proverb, "You harvest from the seeds you plant," which means you get what your labors deserve, in both a positive sense of reward and negative sense of punishment. The 'unmourned house' could be either or both of the lost Great Houses of the Dunmer – House Dwemer and House Dagoth._

Fen closed her eyes for a moment. It was plain as day. The Nerevarine was an Outlander. But surely that meant that she couldn't be the Nerevarine, being from Mournhold…but as she thought about it, Fen realized that Vvardenfell was the only place she had ever heard the term. It was exclusive to the island, she realized, and this labeled her an Outlander, Morrowind-born or not. Not sure of what to think, Fen set _The Lost Prophecy _aside and opened _The Real Nerevar._

_When the Dunmer followed Veloth to Morrowind, they were many warring clans, with no law or leader in common. One Dunmer warlord, Nerevar, had the ambition to rule all the Dunmer._

_In that time, House Dwemer were great enchanters, so Nerevar went in secret to a Dwemer smith and asked for an enchanted ring that would help him. The ring gave its wearer great powers of persuasion; for safety, it was enchanted to instantly kill anyone who wore it except Nerevar. The ring was called Moon-and-Star, and it helped Nerevar unite the various clans into the First Council._

_Later, however, disputes over religion divided the Council, with House Dwemer and House Dagoth on one side and all the other Houses on the other. Dwemer and Dagoth invited Orc and Nord clans as allies, and held northwest Morrowind, while Nerevar mustered the other Houses and nomad tribes and marched to meet the Dwemer-Dagoth-Westerner forces._

_The armies met at Red Mountain, a Dwemer stronghold. The Dwemer were defeated, with great slaughter, and terrible sorceries were used, resulting in the utter extermination of House Dwemer, House Dagoth, and their allies. Nerevar was killed in the battle, and his ring lost, but Nerevar's alliance survives in Morrowind's ruling political institution, the Grand Council._

Nibani Maesa had mentioned Nerevar's ring and his family's symbol, the moon-and-star. She found a quill and an inkwell and sketched a quick crescent moon encircling a six-pointed star, so quickly and naturally it was as if she was drawing from memory. The symbol looked oddly familiar, like she had come across it long ago and had nearly forgotten. Fen studied the spiky sketch a few moments more, then set it aside and reached for _Nerevar Moon-and-Star._

_[This is a selection from a series of monographs by various Imperial scholars on Ashlander legends.]_

_In ancient days, the Deep Elves and a great host of outlanders from the West came to steal the land of the Dunmer. In that time, Nerevar was the great khan and warleader of the House People, but he honored the Ancient Spirits and the Tribal law, and became as one of us._

_So, when Nerevar pledged upon his great Ring of the Ancestors, One-Clan-Under-Moon-and-Star, to honor the ways of the Spirits and rights of the Land, all the Tribes joined the House People to fight a great battle at Red Mountain._

_Though many Dunmer, Tribesman and Houseman, died at Red Mountain, the Dwemer were defeated and their evil magicks destroyed, and the outlanders driven from the land. But after this great victory, the power-hungry khans of the Great Houses slew Nerevar in secret, and, setting themselves up as gods, neglected Nerevar's promises to the Tribes._

_But it is said that Nerevar will come again with his ring, and cast down the false gods, and by the power of his ring will make good his promises to the Tribes, to honor the Spirits and drive the outsiders from the land._

This just seemed to be reaffirming the belief that Nerevar would be reborn, though the writing had a distinct Ashlander flair. Fen could easily picture Julan saying something like that. She picked up the last document, _Saint Nerevar._

_[From a short Temple pamphlet for Western readers.]_

_Ages ago, Nerevar was the greatest Dunmer general, First Councilor, and companion of Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil, who, with the power of the great Ring of the Ancestors, One-Clan-Under-Moon-and-Star, united the Dunmer Houses to confront the evil Dwemer, the treacherous House Dagoth, and their Western allies at Red Mountain._

_By Providence, the faithless Dwemer were utterly destroyed, and their allies defeated, but Nerevar, mortally wounded in combat with the traitor Dagoth Ur, was driven from Red Mountain. Nerevar died not long after of his wounds, but he lived to see the birth of the Temple, and to bless the unity of the Dunmer into the safekeeping of Almsivi, the Temple, and all its communion of saints._

So this had to be from the Heirographa, the papers that the Temple showed to the public. She tossed it aside dismissively and picked up _Kagrenac's Tools _again. This document, in particular, had been troubling to her. She skimmed through it, rereading the parts that claimed the friendship of Nerevar and Dagoth Ur.

In her dreams, the golden-masked man had called her friend and Nerevar. Dagoth Gares had given her a message from Dagoth Ur, calling her to rejoin him as a friend. Could it be…?

Staring at the words on the page, Fen suddenly remembered something – three books she had found ages and ages ago, that she hadn't been able to make any sense of. Cursing herself for her own stupidity, Fen shoved the loose papers into her bag and took the guild guide to Sadrith Mora, where she had stowed all of her books in a spare chest. Fen unlocked the chest and dug through it, finally pulling out _Divine Metaphysics, The Egg of Time, _and _Hanging Gardens. _She opened _The Egg of Time. _Fen crouched down on the floor beside the chest, spilling with books, and flipped feverishly through the pages. There were endless sheets filled back and front with strange, spiky Dwemer text, dotted with the occasional complicated diagram. Then, finally, at the back – a full two-page drawing in dark, fading ink. On the first page, a Dwemer man, standing with his face in shadow, his arms straight out on either side and his legs set apart, his entire figure enclosed in a perfectly round circle. Fen turned her gaze to the next page.

The same figure, though now his entire body was in shadow, the bottom half blurred by dark, curving lines representing flame, his very essence being completely destroyed. Below his circle, a human heart was drawn, complete in its intricacy with tubes and deep crevices upon its surface. To one side, a highly detailed dagger with a crescent moon on the end of its hilt pierced into the heart. To the other, a star-tipped hammer crushed it. Fen let out an amazed breath, running her fingers over the page, realization dawning.

The hammer and the dagger.

Sunder and Keening.


	21. Chapter 21

Slipping these books into her bag, Fen slammed the chest shut and nearly sprinted outside. It was late in the afternoon and Julan would come looking for her soon, but she was too intent on finding answers to care. She cast water-walking on herself and jogged around the craggy islands to Tel Fyr, then retraced her steps back down to the Corprusarium. Vistha-Kai surveyed her critically.

"Back again? I thought you had the disease."

"Lord Fyr cured me of it. I'm immune now. May I enter? I wish to speak with Yagrum Bagarn."

"It makes no difference to me," the Argonian hissed. "Just do not harm the inmates." He let Fen pass, and she pulled the books out of her bag as she went back through the yellowish, sickly-smelling corridors to the little wooden platform where Yagrum Bagarn stood on his strange, spindly brass legs. The Dunmer woman, Uupse Fyr, was gone.

"Ah! My scholar friend again! Does Lord Fyr need something else looked at?"

"No, actually," Fen said, holding the first book, _Hanging Gardens,_ out to him. "I do." Yagrum Bagarn took the book and opened it. He read a few lines, thenchuckled a bit.

"Yes, this book is written in both Aldmeris and in Dwemer. Many books were written in both languages in the days of Resdayn when Dunmer and Dwemer ruled together peacefully. I'd offer to translate," he said, closing the book and holding it out to her, "but this is really just a boring travel guide." Fen took it, her heart sinking. What if the rest of the books were useless as well? "If you find any other books in Dwemer, I could translate them for you."

"Yes," she said, handing him _Divine Metaphysics, _the one with the complicated diagrams. He flipped through this one a few times, and his merry expression darkened into something grimmer.

"This book is just an explanation of some of Kagrenac's theories. I could spend hours explaining them to you, but Kagrenac is dead, and I believe his theories must die with him." Hoping that _The Egg of Time _would yield more information from him, Fen gave him the last book, taking _Divine Metaphysics _back into her arms. Yagrum Bagarn read a few pages, then flipped straight to the illustrations at the back as if he knew they were there.

"By refreshing my memory with _Divine Metaphysics_, I believe I can explain," he said, studying the picture curiously. "The Dwemer were not unified in their thinking. Kagrenac and his tonal architects, among them Bthuand Mzahnch, who wrote this book, believed they could improve the Dwemer race. Others argued that the attempt would be too great a risk. The war with Nerevar and the Dunmer may have led Kagrenac to carry out his experiments prematurely. Although this book argues that nothing disastrous could result, the disappearance of my race argues otherwise."

"That's it?" Fen asked, taking the book as he handed it back to her. "What about the hammer and the dagger? Are they Sunder and Keening?" A dark look crossed the Dwarf's face.

"How do you know about those?"

"I'm a scholar, remember?" Fen said, hoping to lighten the mood, but Bagarn just narrowed his eyes.

"This book mentions Sunder and Keening, if briefly. Perhaps it was wrong of Lord Kagrenac to attempt to tap from the Heart of Lorkhan. Perhaps it was right. I was not there at the time, and have no opinion."

"Thank you," Fen said, seeing the Dwarf was tired and he would yield no more information. "Very much."

"I hope you'll come back and visit me, scholar," he called after her as she left. "It gets terribly lonely down here with bloated monsters as your only company."

She water-walked back to Sadrith Mora and locked the books in her trunk, feeling disappointed at the lack of information Bagarn had given her. Fen felt the ring on her finger growing warm just as she teleported back to Balmora.

"Julan?" she inquired as she walked out of the guildhall.

"Yes," he replied testily. "I went to the Eight Plates, but you weren't there."

"I had to stop in…Sadrith Mora. For something." Julan was already irritated that she was pursuing the prophecies – she didn't think it would be a good idea to mention that she had gone back to the Corprusarium to ask Yagrum Bagarn about them. "Where are you?"

"In the Eight Plates. Fen, I'm not feeling well. Can you teleport to my mother's and pick something up for me? She'll know what to give you."

"What?" Fen said incredulously. "Just go to the Temple, Julan, it's ten feet away from where you are now!"

"I can't," he persisted. "I told you, I feel awful."

"Then I'll bring you a potion."

"My mother makes the best ones," he said. "Please, Fen? You have a mark set in Balmora, it'll take you all of five minutes."

"Fine," she said with a sigh. "I'll be there in a minute." The ring darkened and she teleported to the three yurts on the beach with the telepathy ring, nervously going forward to fold back the flap of Mashti's yurt. Her last encounter with Julan's mother had been, if anything, uncomfortable. She was alarmed, however, to see the woman crouched by the fire, tears pouring down the front of her face. Fen was about to leave when Mashti spoke harshly, her voice grating and sharp.

"What now, outlander? I can tell you nothing more you would wish to know. What would such a one as you care about the story of an outcast?" Fen paused, then slowly lowered her hand from the yurt flap.

"I would care if you would tell me."

"Sit then, and I will." Fen sat down on the other side of the fire, still puzzled, and Mashti started to speak, not bothering to stem the flow of her crying. "I was born to the Urshilaku Ashlanders, and I was respected there, for my father was chief of the tribe, and my mother was a high-born Redoran lady he took as slave-bride in a raid on some travelers. But when men of the Ahemmusa came to our camp on a trading mission, the spirits whispered to me that my destiny lay with their tribe, and when they left, I went with them.

"When he discovered I had gone without his permission, my father was very angry, for I was barely eighteen, and he had pledged me as bride to one of his gulakahns. He disowned me as daughter, and I never saw him, my home or my mother again. I hear he is dead now. Good. He was a harsh, cruel man," she said angrily, "and I never missed him. I became one of the Ahemmusa, and studied the ways of their wise women. I was skilled in the craft, too skilled. The petty jealousies of others made me an exile in the end."

"An exile?"

"I do not like to speak of this. It was long ago, but wounds to the heart and the honor do not heal. There are those I can never forgive, and those whom I would have forgiven in an instant, had they but asked for it. And now it is too late." She buried her face in her hands. "Ai...leave me now, outlander. I wish to be alone." Fen obliged and left the yurt, letting the flap fall closed behind her. She had not expected Mashti to speak to her at all…but her interest had been piqued. She made a mental note to ask Nibani Maesa about Mashti when she went to deliver the lost prophecies.

Fen teleported back to Balmora and gave Julan one of her own healing potions, promising that it was from his mother. He grumpily joined her for a quick dinner, then they both went to bed for the night.

The next morning, Fen recalled them both to the Urshilaku camp. Prophecies in hand, Fen pushed open the flap of Nibani Maesa's yurt and bowed as the wise woman greeted her.

"Welcome, Clanfriend Fen. Do you bring me news of the lost prophecies?"

"Yes," Fen said, holding the papers aloft.

"You have these lost prophecies? You will tell me these things, over and over, until I have them by heart. And then you will tell me what these priests say, what they see in these words." Fen nodded, and they sat down. She began to speak the words of the prophecies, over and over, until she had memorized them just as well as Nibani. At some point Julan stood and left without bothering to excuse himself, a cross look on his face, but neither Fen nor Nibani paid him any mind. When they had finished, Nibani smiled and rested a firm hand on Fen's shoulder. "And now, you must leave me. Hunt. Sleep. Train. Feed. Learn the land. I must bring these things into me, and place them before my ancestors, and listen to them, and to the skies and stars of my dreams. And then, when the moons have come and gone, return, and I will give you my judgment." She raised one elegant hand to the flap of the yurt, and Fen stood, preparing to leave.

"Nibani," she said suddenly, remembering. "Do you know a woman called Mashti Kaushibael?"

"Do I know anyone named Mashti Kaushibael?" she repeated, looking dazed. "Why...yes, I do, but I have not heard of her for many years now. She was the daughter of our previous ashkhan, but she left us to marry a man from the Ahemmusa. Is she still with them?"

"She married? A man from the Ahemmusa?"

"That's what she told her sister, the night she left. So her sister claimed, anyway."

"Thank you," Fen said, and she left to find Julan circuiting around the camp, a sour look on his face. "Julan." He looked up.

"This is a big waste of time, Fen."

"What do you mean?"

"This isn't getting me anywhere. How am I supposed to carry out my mission if we're getting all sidetracked with a stupid prophecy that isn't even right?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"You know I don't," he snapped. "But I don't like this. It's all heading in the wrong direction. They should have realized you're not the one by now." Julan lowered his voice as a man holding a bow walked past, gazing at them curiously. "Something's not right here."

"We need to give Nibani time to think," Fen said. "Actually, I have some…um…checking up to do. For the Blades."

"Oh. The Imperials."

"Yes. So if you want to teleport to Ald'ruhn, I'll meet you there in a bit."

"Fine," Julan said curtly, and he recalled. Surprised her ruse had worked, Fen recalled back to Sadrith Mora and paid for passage to Tel Vos. The sky had just grown dark when she arrived, and she walked quickly to the Ahemmusa camp, just past Vos. The camp seemed to have settled down for the night, but Fen managed to catch one woman rolling up guar hides outside her yurt and asked her about Mashti.

"Mashti Kaushibael? Married? That's not how it was, outlander," the woman said, picking up the hides. "But this is private tribal business, and none of your concern. And by Boethiah, don't mention such a thing to Ahmabi!"

"Ahmabi?"

"She's the old ashkahn's widow. She's always been unstable, but especially so since her husband died. Still, she's very respected, and so we try to keep her happy. For example, we don't talk about _certain people_ if we can help it," she added pointedly. "Good day." The woman turned and ducked into her yurt.

"Maybe talking to certain people is exactly what I need," Fen murmured, and she found and entered the ashkahn's yurt without ceremony.

"What are you doing here?" a cold voice demanded when the tent flap fell closed behind her. A frail-looking Dunmer woman wearing a faded blue robe sat cross-legged before the empty firepit, glaring at her. Fen took a deep breath.

"Did you know that Mashti Kaushibael was married?" she said bluntly.

"_WHAT DID YOU SAY!?"_ Ahmabi shrieked, flying to her feet. "Han-Sashael was only ever married to ONE woman, and that was ME!" She thrust her finger into Fen's face. "How DARE you suggest that what that evil murderous WITCH did to him had any connection to a marriage before the gods?! He was MINE! He loved ME! And when she couldn't have him, she KILLED him!" Tears started to pour from the old woman's eyes. "Get out…GET OUT!" She flew at Fen, aiming to pummel her, and Fen quickly ducked out of the yurt. Not yet satisfied with this information, Fen went to find another Ahemmusa to talk to and met a man just coming in from hunting, it appeared, carrying a dead rat over his shoulder.

"Pardon, serjo," Fen said, catching him before he entered his yurt. "Can you tell me anything about Mashti Kaushibael?"

"She is a murderous witch," he said darkly.

"Why?" He surveyed her critically.

"Why would you know the story, outlander?" Fen felt Julan's telepathy ring growing hot on her finger and laid her other hand over it. The metal cooled.

"Because I have heard many different accounts of it, and I wish to know the truth." He glared at her for a moment more, then sighed.

"I was there when she worked her evil magic upon our strongest warriors. It was bad, very bad. I alone survived, and I wish I was dead with them. There is no honor left for our people now." Fen said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"It was three summers ago. Han-Sashael chose me to join his hunting party. We would roam the Grazelands, bring food home, protect the camp. We were proud, the best warriors of the tribe. That day, we come upon Daedra – four of them. Hungers, you call them. Ugly creatures with the long claws. To see four at once, this was strange. They stood as if they were waiting for us. So we attacked. We are warriors.

"When the Daedra began to flee, we followed. They ran into a cave in the hills. They are afraid, our ashkahn said. We shall slaughter them all, and carry their skins home in glory. He tells one man to stand watch at the cave mouth, and tells me to run back to the camp and bring the pack guar, for the carrying of the prizes. As I ran, I saw her. She was moving fast between the rocks, straight to the cave. I did not see her face, too far, but I saw the sun shine off her dagger.

"I was afraid, then, for I know of the witch-women, and what they do to men with their ghost-snake. She summoned her evil magicks, killed the man at the cave mouth, Ainab. He was a big man, but she dropped him down like he was a rat. Then she went inside. I heard the screaming then, and I move, and I ran to the camp, fetched everyone who can hold a weapon. We came back, but it was late, too late." He shook his head.

"In the cave, dead warriors. Dead Daedra, every kind of Daedra. Many, many daedra she had put there, waiting for the men. But Han-Sashael, he not there among the dead, and no witch either. She lured him into the deep tunnels, where she catch him unawares, for she never could beat him in fair fighting, even with Daedra. We heard his death scream, but we never found the body.

"When we heard our strong ashkhan is dead, we were very much afraid. When we got far from the cave, we looked, and again we saw the witch-woman. She came out that cave with no drop of blood on her – those Daedra, they did not touch her at all. But we are too frightened to seek vengeance upon her for our dead. She has strong and evil magicks." He sighed heavily again.

"I'm sorry, serjo," Fen said slowly when it was clear his story was finished. "But…why are you telling me this? I am a stranger to you."

"Because it is like you said. Many people tell many different stories, and all people deserve to know the truth about that wicked woman. Is that all you wish to know, outlander?"

"Yes," Fen said. "Thank you." The Ashlander passed her and entered one of the yurts, leaving Fen standing alone in the middle of the dark camp. Was Mashti capable of slaying an entire party of hunters? It seemed ridiculous when she thought of Mashti, crumpled on the floor of her yurt in tears. Then, suddenly, a bright flash appeared before her and Julan stood there, about to speak. Then he stopped and looked around, puzzled.

"Why are you here?" he asked. "This is the Ahemmusa camp."

"Skink asked me to deliver a potion –" she started, but she was cut off by a high-pitched, incredulous voice behind them.

"_Julan?_" They turned, and Fen saw the one who had spoken was a young Dunmer woman with vividly bright red hair tied out of her face in two sloppy braids. Julan rubbed the back of his neck.

"Hello, Shani," he said in a resigned voice. Fen glanced at the girl again. Her skin was ruddy and criss-crossed with scars in places, though her eyes were vividly cherry-coloured, her hair likewise. Her nose was small and sloped down and then quickly up again, and she wore simple hide-sewn clothes with a blade on her hip and a shield across her back.

"They told me you'd gone to Red Mountain!" she almost shrieked, the many earrings dangling from her pointed ears clicking together as she moved. "I see you've changed your mind!" Shani paused, looked him up and down quickly, then crossed her surprisingly muscular arms over her chest. "You _have _changed your mind, haven't you? Please tell me you're not still a complete idiot."

"I haven't changed my mind, I'm just doing some training first!" Julan snapped, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't look at me like that!" He turned sharply to Fen. "Did you deliver that potion? I want to get out of here."

"Not yet," Fen said quickly, aware that Shani was still glaring at them. "Why don't you go back to Ald'ruhn? I'll meet you in the Inn when I'm finished." Julan gave Shani a curt look, then teleported and disappeared, leaving an awkward silence behind him.

"So you're traveling with Julan?" Shani said.

"Um…yes, I am." She snorted.

"So he's told you all about me, hasn't he? Hah. I bet he has. I'm sure he said I was clingy and demanding and argued with him all the time. And that I compared his dear mother to a Hunger, only without the charm and good looks. Oh, and that I was a cheat, a liar, a thief and a troublemaker."

"He didn't say anything like that," Fen replied, and her face softened.

"Didn't he? Oh...I'm surprised. You should hear some of the things he's said to me! It's just so sad – what's your name?"

"Fen."

"It's just so sad, Fen! We were best friends, you know? And then lovers..." she drifted off, staring out at the dark Grazelands. "Perhaps that was the mistake. Maybe if we had only been friends, he wouldn't hate me now. But it's too late, everything is broken. I'm a fool to still...to still be here."

"Why are you here, then?" Fen asked.

"I'm still here because of him!" she shouted, and Fen was sure someone in the surrounding yurts would wake. "Because he's making a terrible mistake! His mother is a lunatic, and she's going to make him do something incredibly suicidally insane, but it's all lies! He won't believe me…" She sniffed loudly and Fen was horrified to see her eyes were glistening with tears. "…and he barely even looks at me these days, but…I have to try. Because even if he acts like a complete idiot, and is horrible to me...he's still my best friend…" The tears were pouring freely now. "…and I miss him!" She let out a terrible wail and threw herself into Fen's arms. Somewhat shocked, Fen awkwardly patted Shani's back.

"Um…please don't cry."

"I'm sorry," she sniffed, pulling back. "I'm fine, really. And please, you mustn't repeat any of this to Julan. He'd only get angry with me again. Anyway, I don't want him to think I still care about him." She straightened up. "I do have _some_ pride left. And... thank you. For listening, I mean. There's really no one I can talk to about this. And...you _will_ look after Julan, won't you? I'm scared for him, he really is making a terrible mistake. I'm glad he has a friend."

"Of course," Fen said, touched by her worry. "But…if I could ask…what mistake is he making?"

"So he's told you, has he? About being the Nerevarine, I mean?" Fen nodded. "And all that stuff about his mother finding him in the wilderness as a baby? Ha...babies don't come from rocks, you know, whatever Mashti says!"

"You don't believe her?"

"Of course not! Because I know what _really_ happened. And Mashti knows I know – that's why she made Julan break off our relationship, when she realized that I had found out. She was afraid that I would manage to convince Julan." She sighed. "I never did, though. That idiot believes anything she tells him."

"What _did _really happen?"

"I can't tell you here!" she hissed, glancing around. Fen decided that this was a useless gesture, because if someone wanted to listen in, they easily would have heard Shani before now. "I shouldn't even be talking to you now...if Ahmabi were to hear us, she'd go mad. Anyway, I have to go hunting tomorrow morning. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but I'll try and send word to you somehow. When you meet me back here later, I'll take you somewhere we can talk properly." She straightened up. "It was nice to meet you, though."

"Um…yes," Fen said, smiling slightly. Shani grinned. "I'll see you later." Fen teleported back to the Ald Skar Inn, her mind filling with questions. If Mashti really _was _Julan's mother…

"There you are," Julan said as she appeared. "Gods, I hope Shani didn't talk to you for too long. She hasn't changed at all."

"She's all right," Fen said, but Julan just rolled his eyes.


	22. Chapter 22

Nibani Maesa had said to return when the moon had come and gone. Fen reasoned that this meant a month, and she and Julan spent most of Evening Star doing guild jobs for Skink-In-Tree's-Shade and tracking down the remaining propylon indices for Folms Mirel in Caldera. A few of these ventures took them to Sixth House bases, which were easy to clear out, albeit physically and mentally draining for both of them.

At some point near the end of the month, Skink asked Fen to acquire a copy of the rare _Galur Rithari's Papers. _She and Julan went to Vivec and visited Jobasha's Rare Books, where she had bought most of the other books that she had been asked to get, but she was dismayed to discover that he didn't have a copy.

"You might try looking at the library in the Hall of Justice here in Vivec," Jobasha said when she asked after the book. "It is a well-hidden library and guarded at all times, but you will find a copy there."

"Thank you," Fen said, and she reasoned that it would be best if Julan sat this particular venture out, seeing as she would most likely put her Amulet of Shadows to use. She had him teleport back to Ald'ruhn and took a gondola to the Temple Canton, then into the Hall of Justice. Fen waited until the Ordinators were out of sight, then slipped the Amulet around her neck. There was a faint hissing sound and she vanished where she stood, the colour almost melting away from her. Hoping no one had seen, she crept up a flight of stairs and slipped into the Office of the Watch, a small room where a single Ordinator sat at a desk, scribbling on a piece of parchment and frowning slightly. Fen glanced around the room and saw nothing unusual, but cast a silent detect lock spell to be sure. The spell, invisible to all but her, swept through the room as a white mist, then concentrated at the corner of the carpet for a moment before vanishing.

Fen moved the rest of the way into the room, moving the door as little as possible. She passed the desk where the Ordinator's quill scratched softly and knelt down in the corner where the mist had accumulated seconds before. Peeling back the edge of the carpet, Fen found a trapdoor that was, presumably, locked. She glanced back at the Ordinator, who had noticed nothing and was still pored over his papers. Fen pressed her hands to the trapdoor, unlocking it, then added a silence spell so that she could open it and climb into the room below unheard.

The room was empty save for a woman in a dark robe reading at a desk in the back. It was lined with shelves, similar to the Library of Vivec, though the ceiling was low and the room stretched longer. Fen went to the first shelf and let her eyes travel along the spines of the books. _Reflections on Cult Worship. The Real Barenziah, Volume Four. Vampires of Vvardenfell, Volume II. Progress of Truth. Antecedents of Dwemer Law. _

_These must be the books banned by the Temple,_ Fen thought, recognizing a few. While the books were fascinating, Fen had a feeling that the woman in the back would notice if books began disappearing off the shelves at random. She located _Galur Rithari's Papers _and was about to leave with it when something else caught her eye – a single sheet of parchment sitting on a blank space on the shelf, headed _Nerevar at Red Mountain. _Moving with sudden instinct, she grabbed it at precisely the wrong time, for the woman had just glanced up to see the paper floating into the air and disappearing.

"Thief!" she screamed at once, jumping to her feet, and Fen shoved the paper roughly into her robe and made a beeline for the trapdoor. She threw herself to the side as it sprang open and the Ordinator from upstairs jumped down, running into the library. "There was a thief!" the woman practically shrieked at him, and Fen seized the opportunity to hastily scramble up the ladder and into the Office of the Watch. "There! I heard something!" Fen heard the Ordinator climbing the ladder behind her, and she wrenched open the door and sprinted down through the empty Hall of Justice, pushed through the door outside, and yanked the Amulet of Shadows off her neck, quickly finding the gondolier and shoving several septims into her hands.

Marveling at her miraculous escape, Fen sat down in the gondola and took out _Nerevar at Red Mountain, _which had become severely crumpled in her inner pocket. She smoothed it out on her lap, bending close to read the words. The paper was handwritten in tiny, cramped writing that completely filled the page, though the parchment was spotted with age.

_[The following is from the Apographa, the hidden writings of the Tribunal Temple. It is a __scholarly retelling of a tradition transmitted through the Ashlanders concerning the battle at Red Mountain and subsequent events. The Ashlanders associate this tale with the telling of Alandro Sul, a shield-companion of Nerevar who came to live among the Ashlanders after the death of Nerevar and during the ascension of the Tribunal. There are many variant treatments of this story, but the primary elements are consistent throughout the tradition. The murder of Nerevar, the tragic fate of Dagoth Ur, and the profane source of the Tribunal's divine power are denied by Temple doctrine as ignorant Ashlander superstition, and not widely known among civilized Dunmer.]_

_Resdayn, present day Morrowind, was contested ground between two very different types of mer: the Chimer, who worshipped Daedra, and the Dwemer, who worshipped a profane and secret power. These two people warred with each other constantly until their lands were invaded by a young, vibrant, and violent alien culture, the Nords._

_Two heroes, one from the Chimer and one from the Dwemer, Indoril Nerevar and Dumac Dwarf-Orc, made peace between their people and together ousted the alien invaders. Then these two heroes worked long and hard to maintain that peace thereafter, though their counselors thought it could not last or, worse, that it shouldn't. Nerevar's queen and his general – Almalexia, Sotha Sil, Vivec – told him to claim all Resdayn for his own. But Nerevar would not listen, for he remembered his friendship with Dumac. There would be only peace._

_Until Dagoth-Ur arrived. House Dagoth had discovered the source of the profane and secret power of the Dwemer: the legendary Heart of Lorkhan, which Dumac's people had used to make themselves immortal and beyond the measure of the gods. In fact, one of the their high priests, Kagrenac, was building a New God so that the Dwemer could claim Resdayn for their own._

_The Tribunal urged Nerevar again to make war on the Dwarves. Nerevar was troubled. He went to Dumac, his friend of old, and asked if what Dagoth-Ur said was true. But Kagrenac and the high priests of the Dwemer had kept their New God secret from their King, and Dumac said the Dwemer were innocent of any wrongdoing. Nerevar was troubled again and made pilgrimage to Holamayan, the sacred temple of Azura, who confirmed that all that Dagoth-Ur said was indeed true and that the New God of the Dwemer should be destroyed for the safety of not only Resdayn, but for the whole world. When Nerevar went back and told his Tribunal what the goddess had said, his queen and generals felt themselves proved aright and again counseled him to war. There were reasons that the Dwemer and Chimer had hated each other forever._

_Finally, Nerevar, angered that his friend Dumac would lie to him, went back to Vvardenfell. This time the Chimer King was arrayed in arms and armor and had his hosts around him, and he spoke harshly to Dumac Dwarf-Orc, King of Red Mountain. "You must give up your worship of the Heart of Lorkhan or I shall forget our friendship and the deeds that were accomplished in its name!" And Dumac, who still knew nothing of Kagrenac's New God, but proud and protective as ever of his people, said, "We shall not relinquish that which has been our way for years beyond reckoning, just as the Chimer will not relinquish their ties to the Lords and Ladies of Oblivion. And to come at my door in this way, arrayed in arms and armor and with your hosts around you, tells me you have already forgotten our friendship. Stand down, my sweet Nerevar, or I swear by the fifteen-and-one golden tones I shall kill you and all your people."_

_And so the Chimer and Dwemer went to war. The Dwemer were well-defended by their fortress at Red Mountain, but the bravery and cleverness of Nerevar's queen and generals drew most of Dumac's armies out into the field and kept them there, so that Nerevar and Dagoth-Ur could make their way into the Heart Chamber by secret means. There, Nerevar met Dumac and the Dwarf King and they both fell from grievous wounds. Dagoth-Ur slew Kagrenac and took the tools the Dwemer used to tap the power of the Heart. He went to his dying lord Nerevar and asked him what to do with these tools. And Nerevar summoned Azura again, and she showed them how to use the tools to separate the power of the Heart from the Dwemer people._

_And on the fields, the Tribunal and their armies watched as the Dwemer turned into dust all around them as their stolen immortality was taken away._

_Back in Red Mountain, Nerevar told Dagoth-Ur to protect the tools and the Heart Chamber until he returned. Dagoth-Ur said, "But shouldn't we destroy these tools at once, so that they might never be used for evil again?" But Nerevar was confused by his wounds and his sorrow (for he still loved Dumac and the Dwemer people) and so went to the fields outside of Red Mountain to confer with his queen and his generals, who had foreseen that this war would come and whose counsel he would not ignore again. "I will ask the Tribunal what we shall do with them, for they have had wisdom in the past that I had not. Stay here, loyal Dagoth-Ur, until I return."_

_Then Nerevar told his queen and generals all that had transpired under Red Mountain and how the Dwemer had used special tools to turn their people into immortals and of the wondrous power of the Heart of Lorkhan. The Tribunal decided that the Chimer should learn how to use this power so that Nerevar might claim Resdayn and the world for their people. Nerevar did not expect or want this, so he asked his queen and generals to help him summon Azura yet again for her guidance. But the Tribunal had become as greedy as Kagrenac upon hearing of the power of the Heart and they coveted it. They made ritual as if to summon Azura as Nerevar wanted but Almalexia used poisoned candles and Sotha Sil used poisoned robes and Vivec used poisoned invocations. Nerevar was murdered._

_Then Azura came forth anyway and cursed the Tribunal for their foul deeds. She told them that she would use her powers over dusk and dawn to make sure Nerevar would come back and make things right again. But the Tribunal laughed at her and said that soon they would be gods themselves and that the Chimer people would forget their old ways of worship. And Azura knew this would be true and that it would take a long time before her power might bring Nerevar back. "What you have done here today is foul beyond measure and you will grow to regret it, for the lives of gods are not what mortals think and matters that weigh only years to mortals weigh on gods forever." And so that they might know forever their wicked deeds Azura changed the Chimer into Dunmer, and their skin turned ashen and their eyes into fire. "Let this mark remind you of your true selves who, like ghouls, fed on the nobility, heroism, and trust of their king."_

_And then the Tribunal went into Red Mountain and met with Dagoth-Ur. Dagoth-Ur saw what had been done, for his skin had changed as well, and he tried to avenge the death of Nerevar but to no avail. He was driven off and thought dead. The Tribunal found the tools he had been guarding and, through study of Kagrenac's methods, turned themselves into gods._

_Thousands of years after their apotheosis, the Tribunal are still the gods of Morrowind and the old ways of worship are remembered only by a few. And the murder of Nerevar is known to fewer. But his queen and generals still fear his return, for the words of Azura linger long and they see the mark of her curse on their people every day._

Fen looked up slowly at the tall canton walls on either side, drifting serenely past as the gondolier paddled among them. Her mind felt like it was overflowing with questions and information, and she scanned the parchment again, hardly daring to believe the words she had read.

The Tribunal had murdered Nerevar. There was no doubt in her mind now. They had slain him for their own gain, so that they might become gods. Fen buried her face in her hands. Their betrayal had cost Nerevar his _life_…Fen resisted the urge to scream. And Nerevar…Nerevar had been friends with the Dwemer. _Is this why I love the Dwemer ruins so much? _Fen thought to herself. _Because I carry Nerevar's soul? _

"Foreign Quarter," the gondolier said suddenly, catching her oar on the small dock beside the canton to steady her boat.

"Thank you," Fen mumbled, folding _Nerevar at Red Mountain _and slipping it into her robe again, climbing clumsily out of the gondola. It was too much. She couldn't think properly about it, not now.

Skink's reptilian face spread into approval when Fen presented him with _Galur Rithari's Papers. _

"I am honored to have worked with you, Fen," he said, taking the book and handing her an official-looking sealed envelope. Fen flipped it over to look at the seal. It was stamped with the insignia of Chancellor Ocato, the Royal Battlemage at the Imperial City. She glanced up at Skink, puzzled. "Take that letter to Arch-Mage Trebonius in Vivec, if you will."

"What is it?" she asked suspiciously, knowing she was past doing hapless errands for the guild. Skink smiled widely, showing his pointed teeth.

"They are his retirement papers, Fen. The Council of Mages at the Arcane University in Cyrodiil has decided that you shall become the new Arch-Mage of the Vvardenfell chapter of the guild." Fen blinked.

"Me? Arch-Mage?" Skink nodded, and Fen realized the room was silent, all of the other mages watching them intently. "Um…Skink, could I speak with you for a moment?" she murmured, lowering the letter as her face flamed. "Outside?" They went into the corridor, Fen shutting the door to the guild firmly behind them.

"I'm honored," Fen said first. "I'm really, truly humbled by this, Skink."

"It should not come as a surprise," he told her. "You have advanced through the guild faster than anyone ever has before, and your natural talent with the Arcane is unmatchable."

"Thank you, but I have to know…how much of a commitment is this, Skink? Because, lately, I haven't got a terrible lot of extra time on my hands." Skink laughed.

"You will find, Fen, that the Vvardenfell Mages Guild is comprised of a very hardy group of people. Trebonius has left scars on the guild, yes, but we will bounce back again easily. The guild stewards will handle all local business, and I will take care of anything larger while you are away. If we come across something that needs your attention, you will be notified." Fen gave a sigh of relief.

"That sounds fantastic."

"You deserve it. Here." He reached under his collar and took an amulet from around his neck, handing it to her. "It holds no enchantment, but it has a very high capability. Take it."

"Thank you," Fen said again, taking the smooth, rounded amulet from him.

"You will do great things for the guild, Arch-Mage," Skink told her, opening the door. "I know you will."

Trebonius seemed irked at the letter, but agreed to step down graciously, mumbling that his wife had been badgering him about moving back to the Imperial City. He packed up his office and gave Fen a short nod of recognition before he left. She entered the Arch-Mage's quarters with the key she had been given and lined her books up on the shelves, filled the wardrobe with her clothes, set up her alchemy set on the desk. It had no comparison to her quarters in the palace in Mournhold, of course, but it was something. And now, she felt as if she _belonged. _There was an enormous king-sized bed with rich green sheets, and Fen fell onto it, feeling giddy. This was _her _bed. She had a place now. For months she had been keeping her spare things in a chest in Sadrith Mora, lugging everything else around with her. Now there was a spot for her to come and rest, a spot that was all her own. Fen used her ring to tell Julan to come meet her and stood up, changing out of her simple traveling robe into something grander, more suitable for the Arch-Mage of the Vvardenfell Chapter of the Guild of Mages. There was a knock on the door – _her _door – and she opened it to find Julan standing there, looking puzzled.

"They told me you were in – Sheogorath, you look like you're going to go meet a king."

"I'm the Arch-Mage!" she told him brightly, letting him in. "Trebonius retired!"

"Really?" Fen saw a quip about mages coming up, but Julan, thankfully, kept it to himself. "So we get to use the guild guides for free now, right?"

"Right." Fen laughed, for what felt like the first time in years. She offered to buy dinner, but Julan said simply he was tired. "Are you all right?" she asked him, her smile fading. "You seem odd, Julan."

"Hmm?" he said, looking up. "Oh, no, I'm…I'm just thinking about Shani." Fen raised an eyebrow. "Not like _that!_" he added hastily. "Just…everything that's happened...when I was mad at you...and then when you had corprus, and I thought you were going to die...It just makes me think, what if I had stayed mad at you, and then something terrible had happened, and I never got the chance to sort things out? I'd never have forgiven myself for being such an idiot. And...then I think about Shani."

"You think you're being an idiot?"

"I'm not sure. But I think maybe I should talk to her again. Just in case."

"Oh, Julan," Fen said, setting a hand on his shoulder. "We'll go tomorrow. First thing in the morning." He gave her a slight smile.

"Sorry for ruining your – er – moment like this."

"It's fine," Fen replied, knowing it was. "This is more important."

So, early the next morning, they bundled up in their cloaks and rode the short voyage to Vos. Julan was unusually quiet as they crunched through the frost-dusted grass, and even more quiet when they came over the crest of a hill to the Ahemmusa camp.

"Put your hood up," Fen muttered. "We don't want Ahmabi to see you." A short walk around the camp showed them that Shani wasn't outside, and when Fen asked a woman tanning a guar hide, the woman's face turned dark.

"You are looking for Shani?" Fen nodded. "Her hunting troupe returned some time ago, but she was not among them. They say they lost her somewhere in the Grazelands." She glanced around, then looked straight at Julan, lowering her voice. "Normally, I would not speak to you of this, but I confess I am worried, and we cannot spare the warriors to search for her. Perhaps you should speak to Gunta. She was leading the expedition, and can tell you more. She's in the camp somewhere – try the healer's or the trader's."

"What an idiot," Julan whispered as Fen lifted the tent flap of the trader's yurt. "Getting lost on a hunting trip!"

"Shush," Fen muttered, bowing respectfully to the trader and the woman that stood with her, in turn. "Gunta?" she asked the woman, and the woman nodded. "We're looking for Shani."

"You are not Ahemmusa," she said quizzically, and Julan pulled the hood lower over his face.

"We're friends of her's, though," Fen said, and Gunta sighed and rubbed her eyes.

"Yes, then, she was a member of my hunting party. But we were attacked suddenly by many kagouti in the Grazelands, and the group became scattered. When we assembled again, she was missing. We searched for her, but time drew on, and we returned to camp, thinking perhaps she had come here.

"That was some time ago now, and I fear the worst. She is very young, and not a strong fighter. We cannot afford to send warriors after her, as we have few left, and they must hunt and defend the camp. If you are her friend, perhaps you could search for her? I would be in your debt. She was under my command, and I feel responsible." The woman sighed and Fen thanked her and led the way out of the yurt.

"Lost in the Grazelands...that little s'wit never did have any sense of direction," he said scornfully, pulling off his hood as they left the camp and started to walk west, as Gunta had indicated. "And she calls herself a scout!" He made an odd face, like he was trying to look offhand. "I suppose we'd better go and bring her in, although she probably just wandered over to Vos for a drink and got talking to someone." Fen didn't reply, and they walked for about an hour until they reached the mountains. Remembering what Gunta had said about Shani running over the mountains, they levitated over them and into a deep foyada, where they continued to walk.

"What's that?" Julan said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice sounded strained. Fen looked where he was pointing and saw a netch leather shield lying on the ground in front of what looked like the door to a mine. They jogged over to it and Julan picked up the shield. "This is Shani's!" he said at once. "I'd recognize it anywhere…she once hit me over the head with it in the Varo Tradehouse." Fen passed him and tried to push open the door to the mine, but it wouldn't budge.

"Help me with this," she said, and Julan dropped the shield and they pushed together on the door.

"It's stuck," he said, panting. "It must have caved in."

"Right," Fen said. "Stand back." She pressed her hand to the door and used a disintegrate armor spell, hoping it would work. Thankfully, the door melted away, leaving them to stare at a pile of rocks. It looked as if the mine had recently caved in.

"Can you blast those out of the way?" Julan asked, taking a few more steps back.

"I don't think we should. If it's caved in this recently, it's probably unstable. Help me shift some of this rock." After a few moments of straining, they managed to make a small hole into the cavern beyond.

"Lucky we're both skinny," Julan grunted, struggling through the hole after Fen and hitting the ground with a loud clanging noise. "Ouch…dented my armor…" He straightened up and stood beside Fen, glancing around the cavern. It was low-ceilinged and there was a greenish glow about the whole room that came from the glass deposits that stuck out of the walls.

"It was a glass mine," Fen said quietly, and her voice echoed. She walked over to a few stacked crates and picked up a sheet of torn paper that sat on the surface of one of them.

_For the attention of Canctunian Ponius,_

_As you are aware, the Imperial Glass Mine known as Haishibi has been judged unfit for continued development by the Imperial Mine Inspection Committee. Repeated cave-ins and tunnel collapses have demonstrated that the rock is simply too unstable to support further excavation. Given that glass yield has diminished severely in recent months, it has been decided that the profit no longer outweighs the risks, and the mine is to be condemned._

_As foreman, it is my duty to inform you that the wishes of the Commission have now been carried out, and I have personally overseen the closure of the mine and the dismissal of the remaining miners._

_Your faithful servant,_

_Drels Arvel, Foreman, Haishibi Mine._

"Be careful, Julan," Fen said, setting down the paper. "This place is unstable. Let's just find Shani and get out of here." They moved through the mine, meeting a few nix-hounds and a kagouti or two, but nothing out of the ordinary. Several times the passage was blocked and they had to double back and find a different way through. They soon reached a round chamber that held nothing but a few broken mine carts and an Ogrim, an enormous green Daedra that was fat and stupid, but immensely powerful. They managed to get rid of the Ogrim together, and it fell heavily on the ground, making a dust and rocks from the ceiling shower down on them.

"She's not here," Julan said, turning back. "Let's get back outside and keep looking."

"Wait," Fen said, noticing a shallow pool of water in the back of the room. "Look." She waded into the water and found a small hole, just under the surface, leading to the room beyond. "Let's just look in here, then we can leave." Julan didn't seem keen on the idea, but he swam through the hole with her anyway, and they surfaced on the other side of the collapsed rocks. This, too, was a small cavern with several glass deposits on the walls and mushrooms growing from the ground, but what caught Fen's eye was a small figure with vibrantly red hair, motionless upon the moss-spotted ground.

"_Shani!_" Julan cried immediately, splashing out of the water and sprinting over to her. He fell to his knees beside her, turning her face towards him. "She's unconscious," he said as Fen knelt down on her other side. "Gods…how long as she been here? Do you have anything for her?" Fen rummaged in her bag and found a restore fatigue potion, which Julan snatched out of her hand and poured into Shani's open mouth. They both watched her, silent, then she started to cough and she weakly opened her eyes.

"Shani," Julan said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Fen?" she croaked, blinking up at them. "Julan?" Something seemed to register in her mind, and she sat up suddenly. "Oh, thank Azura! You came for me! I've been living off mushrooms for days…" Shani looked awful. Her once-bright hair was matted with dirt and her clothes were torn and crusted with dried blood. Dark bruises lined her shoulders, and her face was scratched and pale.

"Why are you here?" Fen asked her.

"Oh, you know, I just thought I'd enjoy the scenery," Shani said nonchalantly. "I GOT STUCK IN HERE! WHAT DO YOU THINK?!" She started to cough again.

"Calm down," Fen said quickly. "I mean – what happened?"

"There was a pack of kagouti," she muttered weakly, her eyes watering. "I ran up onto the hills to get a better shot with my bow, but then one cornered me, and I kept backing up, trying to shoot it...and then I stumbled over the edge into the foyada. I was hurt from the fall, and I couldn't find my way back over the mountains. The blight came down, and there were so many creatures – I just needed to find shelter, fast."

"So you came in here," Fen said, glancing at the wall of collapsed rock they had swam through. "And the cave collapsed behind you."

"Right. And there were monsters in here too! I just ran and ran, trying to find another way out. And then the Ogrim! I dived past it into the water and found this cave. I could still hear the Ogrim outside, and even if it was gone, the entrance was still blocked. I was better off in here, with light, water and...ugh... mushrooms..."

"You didn't…try to escape?"

"Of course I did! You try sneaking past an Ogrim, and a horde of cave creatures, when you're hurt and exhausted! And anyway, as I discovered, THERE IS NO WAY OUT! WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO, DIG?! IDIOT!" She hunched over, coughing, again.

"Calm down," Fen said as she cleared her throat. "We're have a way out."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry...I...I just didn't think that anyone would come for me. I had given up hope. I thought I was going to die." She sniffed loudly. "And no one would ever even find my body, and give me proper burial with my ancestors. So even my spirit would be trapped here, forever, alone..."

"Well, you're going to be fine," Fen said quickly, hoping she wouldn't start crying again.

"Thank you. Very much. And...thank you, Julan. Of all people, I never would have expected you to come for me." She paused, but Julan said nothing, just stared at the ground. "You're being very quiet. That's not like you. When I was telling Fen what happened, I kept expecting you to interrupt to call me a little s'wit, but you didn't. Are you feeling all right?" Julan was quiet.

"Er…can you walk?" Fen asked Shani. "We should get you home."

"I think so," Shani said, and Fen stood up, taking her arm and helping her get to her feet. "Did you hear that?" she said suddenly, and Fen heard a loud rumbling from the ceiling and the ground shook, making them all stumble to the ground again. As she watched, rocks began to shower from the ceiling, splashing in the water and blocking their way out.

"_Sheogorath!_" she heard Julan shout through the rockfall. When it finally stopped, smaller rocks skidded down and landed with small _plunk_s into the water and dust floated down from the ceiling.

"_No!_" Shani cried tearing at her hair. "Now we're all going to be stuck in this stupid cave forever, with this _selfish n'wah!_"

"Julan?" Fen said blankly.

"I don't even know why he's here!" she wailed. "He hasn't even asked me how I'm feeling, he's hardly spoken to me. But I suppose he promised his _darling_ mother that he wouldn't have anything to do with me, and he HAS to do what she wants, doesn't he?! He always does everything she tells him, because it makes his life so much easier that way! He never has to THINK at all!"

"That is NOT true!" Julan roared suddenly, causing more stones to shower from the ceiling. "You think I broke up with you because she told me to? I did it for your sake, you're just too blind to see that!"

"Um…this isn't getting us anywhere," Fen tried to say, but they didn't seem to notice her..

"No you didn't," Shani said savagely. "You broke up with me because you were getting bored, and your mother gave you an easy way out. I know that. But I hate that you're too much of a coward to admit it, so you pretend that you did it for the sake of your mission, or some other load of noble guarshit. You know I'm telling the truth – I can see it in your face. I've known you all your life, Julan, you can't lie to me. You never could." There was a long silence.

"Let's…um…try to get out of here now," Fen suggested.

"Yes, let's," Shani said, sounding dejected. "Maybe if we –"

"You _idiot!_" Julan shouted suddenly. "You think you know everything about me, don't you? From what you've been saying to me lately, you don't know me at all. Maybe you're right about some things. Maybe I was thinking of ending it with you, even before Mother told me to!" Shani sniffed, and he went on. "But if you really believe that I hate you, and wouldn't come to find you when you were lost...DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED I WAS ABOUT YOU?" he roared suddenly, making both Shani and Fen jump. "I thought you might be dead! Don't you EVER scare me like that again! You're damn right I've known you all my life, you're like a sister to me, and I love you more than you will ever get into your stupid little head –" he took a breath "– so don't you EVER start telling me that I'd rather you were dead!" Shani sniffed again.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" she cried suddenly, slapping her hands to her glistening cheeks. "I was just angry, I didn't mean...You're my best friend! I've been so lonely without you to talk to! Just promise me you won't be so horrible to me anymore!"

"I won't. I'm so sorry, Shani. You know I'd always come to find you." Shani let out a great wail and fell into Julan's arms, sobbing hysterically.

"Um…this is touching, but we should really leave before more of this mine collapses," Fen said after an awkward moment.

"Yes," Shani sniffed, standing back. "But how?"

"I'll teleport us out of here. I set a Recall point outside."

"You did?" Fen said incredulously. "But I didn't see you cast Mark!"

"It doesn't matter!" Shani said vivaciously. "Let's go!"

"Uh... anyway, hold on."

"I hate teleporting," Shani whined as they grasped each other's hands and Julan teleported them. They reappeared just outside the mine. "It always makes me sick," Shani muttered. "Oh! My shield!" She picked it up off the ground and dusted it off, then faltered slightly, swaying on the spot.

"Come on," Julan said quickly, casting a levitate spell. Fen and Shani followed suit. "Let's get you out of here."

They walked back through the Grazelands as night began to fall, and soon they reached the Ahemmusa camp. Julan led the way to the healer's yurt, and Shani went straight inside and collapsed on a bedroll.

"Shani!" the healer said, hurrying over to her. Shani glanced up at Fen and Julan.

"I feel like I could sleep for a week. Come visit me when I'm feeling better, won't you?"

"Of course," Fen said, and the healer shooed them away.

"Maybe when she's better, we can all go for a drink in Vos together," Julan said brightly. They started to walk back towards Vos. "So what do you think of her?"

"Think of her?" Fen repeated, taken aback. Julan rarely asked for her opinion.

"Well, I'm interested. It'd be great if you two were friends."

"She's sweet," Fen said after a moment. "Loud. But sweet. And her hair is gorgeous. Did I tell you I always wanted red hair?" Julan grinned.

"You? With red hair?"

"My grandmother had hair like Shani's when she was younger. I've always been jealous. But Shani's a lovely person, I'm sure."

"She is," Julan agreed. "Mind you, she can also be bad-tempered, whiny and annoying, and she never lets anything drop. But then, she can also be very loving, and she was always fun to be around." He sighed. "I don't think I want us to get back together, but anything could happen, I suppose. It's just that...Shani never really understood me, or what I'm trying to do. She wanted me to marry her, settle down and be a hunter, or a herder."

"But?"

"But I don't want that. I want to make a difference, and to help my people...somehow. You understand that, I think. Whether you believe in my mission doesn't really matter, you believe in me, and that's what counts. I'm stronger when you're with me. I hope I can make you stronger too." Fen smiled, feeling an overwhelming trust in Julan at that moment. They walked in silence for a time, their boots crunching in the frosty grass.

"But now," Fen said after a while, "we ought to get back to the Urshilaku camp. It's been nearly a month. Nibani Maesa will be expecting us."


	23. Chapter 23

"The ancestors and stars have given me clear signs," Nibani Maesa sagely, inviting Fen and Julan to sit before her fire. "The lost prophecies leave no doubt – the Incarnate shall be an outlander." Julan snorted slightly and Fen elbowed him sharply. Nibani Maesa either didn't notice or ignored this, and went on. "You, blessed by Azura, must lift the seven curses of Dagoth Ur. Prophecy has shown the seven steps of the Nerevarine's path, and I have been chosen as your guide for each step on that path. I will read the signs, and show you the way. It is time for you to walk the path of the Seven Visions, and pass the Seven Trials of the Seven Visions." She folded her hands in her lap and studied Fen intently.

"You are born on a certain day to uncertain parents. So you have passed the first trial. My dreams show me that you also fulfill the second trial, that 'neither blight nor age can harm him/The Curse-of-Flesh before him flies'. I have read the signs, but I cannot understand. Can you explain this to me?" Fen explained how she had been cursed with corprus and then cured, and Nibani nodded in an almost approving fashion.

"That you have overcome the Curse-of-Flesh is strange enough, but that it should protect you from blight and age is past belief," she said when Fen had finished. "Yet the signs of my dreams are clear. You have passed the second trial. But the third trial is unfulfilled. The mystery of the third trial is not my secret to share. Go to Sul-Matuul, the guardian of our cult, and he shall tell you of the third trial. When you have fulfilled the third trial, return to me for guidance on your next steps on the path of the Nerevarine." Ignoring Julan's grumbling, Fen crossed the camp to the Ashkahn's yurt and bowed herself inside.

"You have entered the path of the Nerevarine," Sul-Matuul said when they sat down. "This is a hard thing to believe. But Nibani Maesa has spoken to me at length of this, and I have had time to consider. Therefore I shall keep my own counsel, and set before you my own test. I do not dispute with the wise women, but their ways are not the ways of the warrior. Many before have tried the path of the Nerevarine, but all have failed the warrior's test. You must have strength, courage, and cunning. These things I would test.

"Nearby lies Kogoruhn, the ancient halls of the forgotten house, House Dagoth. In recent time, creatures of the blight have come to dwell there. I myself went there, with some brave hunters, and came back again, but it was a bad place, and I am not ashamed to say I was afraid, for myself and my men. If you would have from me the secret of the Third Trial, the 'caverns dark' where Azura's eye sees, you will first bring to me three tokens from dark Kogoruhn." He held up one finger.

"The first token is corprus weepings from a corprus beast, to show that you are proof against the disease's corruption." A second finger. "The second token is a cup with the mark of House Dagoth, for I have myself seen such cups there, and will know you have seen with your eyes what I have seen with mine." A third. "The third token is the Shadow Shield, which lies on the Tomb of Dagoth Morin, in the lava tunnels deep beneath ruined Kogoruhn. Bring these things to me, and then I will tell you the secret of the Third Test." He gave her instructions to the ruin, then gestured that they leave. "Go by day, Clanfriend, or you may find yourself lost," he added before they left.

"This is a waste of time," Julan muttered.

"Let's just get through the Kogoruhn place and see about the cavern," Fen said imploringly as they set off under an unusually blue sky. "Then it'll be obvious I'm not the Nerevarine, and we can carry on with your training." This plan seemed to satisfy Julan, and he looked noticeably more cheerful as they walked.

About an hour later, they came over the crest of a hill and found themselves overlooking Kogoruhn. It was much larger than any of the other Dunmer strongholds Fen had been in, though it looked like it was in a much worse state. Ash covered nearly half of the terrace and the buildings built on top of it seemed to be crumbling before her eyes.

They levitated over the gully that surrounded the stronghold and landed on the terrace, where they were immediately accosted by a naked Dreamer.

"What a fetcher," Julan said, chuckling, as the Dreamer fell dead. "You'd think Dagoth Ur would care enough about his cultists to give them some pants." Fen did not respond, but glanced around warily. The barren emptiness of the landscape around them unsettled her.

They entered one of the smaller domes, with a door labeled _POLLUCK'S EYE_, and were met by an Ash Ghoul, a robed priest of Dagoth Ur that had a single tentacle sprouting from its face, reminding Fen unpleasantly of Dagoth Gares. He ran forward, raising his fists to strike, and Fen summoned an atronach to help them before standing out of the way to throw fire spells at the Ghoul while Julan peppered it with arrows. When the Ghoul collapsed, Fen stepped forward to examine its body. It had nothing of value save for a strange amulet around its neck that was made of some sort of dark red crystal and crafted in the shape of the House Dagoth symbol. She left the amulet on the Ghoul's body and went to examine the rest of the dome.

"Hey, Fen," Julan said, and she turned and saw he was staring at the floor.

"What is it?" Julan pointed. She glanced down at the metal floor here and saw a message that had been scrawled in scuffed white chalk. _THE DREAMER IS AWAKE. _She looked up and saw the message was all over the walls and floor here, some of them written in such a frantic hand that they were nearly illegible.

"That's….odd." She felt a chill go down her spine and turned away from the messages, walking over to a table that had a chair and a stool stacked on top of it. Perched on top of the stool, there was something that resembled a goblet, but she couldn't quite reach. Fen used a telekinesis spell and the goblet floated down to her. She caught it and studied it closely in the dim light. It was made of polished black metal on the outside and dark crimson in the inside, emblazoned with the House Dagoth insignia.

"Are these the corprus weepings you need?" Julan asked from across the room, and Fen joined him and saw he was kneeling down to look at a hardened, yellowish crust of something that had formed on the ground.

"Let's hope that finding the shadow shield is this easy," Fen said, putting away the goblet and taking out a knife to scrape up the weepings with. The shadow shield, however, was not in the second dome they entered, nor was it in the third or fourth. Fen realized this meant that they would have to enter the main base of Kogoruhn, a task she had been hoping to avoid.

They entered into a dark, empty corridor. Fen went first, walking slowly with a fire spell on her fingertips. They came across an Ash Slave around one bend, but it quickly dispatched. Still, there was a sickly, strange air about the place, and Fen could tell Julan felt just as uncomfortable as she did. There was only one room off the long hallway, and this was empty save for a few stacks of chairs and tables. One makeshift tower even had a weaver's loom perched on top of it.

"What the hell…?" Julan said faintly as they entered the room. "Why do they…do this?"

"I have no idea," Fen answered, glancing at a sheet of parchment filled with nonsensical ramblings that sat on one of the tables. "But I don't see the shadow shield. Let's go."

They found a set of stairs leading down at the end of the hall, and they went through a door here to a small chamber with four doors. Three of them were locked, and Fen cast Ondusi's Open Door on each one. They found three locked doors off one hallway – behind two of them, half-rotted human bodies were concealed. The third was empty, but _THE DREAMER IS AWAKE _was chalked on all the walls. They closed the doors, leaving the rooms as they were. They went through the fourth door and down into a high-ceilinged room, where there were several Ash creatures. Fen had Julan stand back and cast a spell of God's Fire, which eliminated all of them instantly with an explosion that filled the room.

"That's a new spell," Julan said as Fen uncorked a Restore Magicka potion and drained it.

"I just bought it the other day," she said. "I've been meaning to test it out. But it's a bit more taxing than I'd like." She did away with the empty bottle and they continued through the dark, red-lit hallways, meeting a few Ash Creatures and Daedra but nothing that couldn't be handled. They eventually came to a door that put them in a tiny, sloped hallway leading down, and when they came out they found themselves in a large, white-walled sewer.

"Why is this here?" Julan said blankly, his voice echoing as they moved along the walkways surrounding the water. "This place hasn't got toilets."

"There seem to be a lot of things about House Dagoth that can't be explained," Fen muttered in reply. They made their way through the sewer and soon came across a large circular hole carved out of the white rock with a cavern door set into it. Fen pushed it open and they found themselves in a low, rocky hallway that was dimly lit with red candles. The followed the hallway, meeting atronachs and Ash creatures along the way, moving methodically along the twists and turns until they reached a long room with shrines set up, similar to the shrine area in Ilunibi. There was a low altar set up at one end, but it was guarded by another Ash Ghoul with a Sixth House amulet around his neck.

"If you will not submit, you must be destroyed."The Ash Ghoul did not attack, but a harsh voice issued from its mouth, sharp and chilling.

"Who are you?" Fen asked loudly, standing her ground.

"I am Dagoth Elam, priest of this place as Dagoth Gares was priest of Ilunibi. And, for our fallen brother, we claim our revenge. For the soul of Dagoth Gares is among us. You have broken his body, but his spirit is with us in his waking dreams. And you must submit, or be destroyed."

"Submit?" Fen repeated, stepping backward as Dagoth Elam advanced.

"You have chosen war with Dagoth Ur. We grieve for your loss, but we will not spare you. You refused the sweetness of Lord Dagoth's friendship. Now know the bitterness of his fury." With that, the Ash Ghoul attacked, running forward to paralyze Fen with a spell. Surprised, Fen stumbled back and hit the ground, hard, while Julan quickly drew the Bonebiter bow. Fen muttered a dispel and stood up, moving forward to join Julan in taking out the Ash Ghoul. It made a sudden sweep with its long-clawed hand, striking Julan across the face and sending him sprawling backwards. Fen took the momentary distraction as an opportunity – she pressed her fingers to Dagoth Elam's head and finished him with a spell, then quickly went to make sure Julan was all right.

"What a lunatic," he said, wincing at the scratches on his face and taking the healing potion she handed him. Fen didn't reply, but merely glanced at the altar he had been guarding. Her spirits lifted.

"This is it!" she exclaimed, picking up the enchanted Dwemer shield that lay there. _SHADOW SHIELD _was engraved into the metal. "Great," she said, tucking the shield under her arm. "Let's recall back to the Urshilaku camp. I don't want to walk back through that place." They disappeared and rematerialized in the center of the Urshilaku camp, leaving the low rumbling of lava floes and the odd whispers of the Sixth House shrine behind. Night had fallen, and only a few Ashlanders were still out. Those that were nodded to Fen and Julan, showing their respect as the two of them walked to Sul-Matuul's yurt.

"I am impressed," Sul-Matuul said, examining the shield, the cup, and the weepings that Fen had laid out on the floor before him. "These three tokens you have brought me. You may keep them. You have passed the Warrior's Test. And I will give you the secret of the Third Trial." He smiled. "'In caverns dark Azura's eye sees/and makes to shine the moon and star.' This is the Third Vision. And you must go to the Cavern of the Incarnate, a place sacred to Azura, and look for the moon and star. The secret of the Cavern of the Incarnate is set in a riddle:

"_the eye of the needle lies in the teeth of the wind_

_the mouth of the cave lies in the skin of the pearl_

_the dream is the door and the star is the key._

"This riddle is Wisdom's Test. Take counsel of the wisdom of the tribes, and you shall find the way. Seek the Cavern of the Incarnate. Gain the moon and star, and bring it to Nibani Maesa. Take with you my blessing, and the blessing of our tribe, Malipu-Ataman's Belt." And he unfastened the strip of guar hide from around his waist and held it out to her. Fen took the belt and saw that it was enchanted with a Fortify Agility spell.

"Thank you," Fen said, inclining her head to him. "It is an honor." They left Sul-Matuul's yurt, Fen tucking the belt into her bag, and decided to pitch the tent and wait until morning to pursue the Cavern of the Incarnate, for they were both physically and mentally drained from the cleansing of Kogoruhn.

Those rose early the next morning, Julan rolling up the tent while Fen went to speak with Shabinbael, an Urshilaku woman who had been quick to welcome her to the camp.

"Welcome, Hearthfriend Fen," Shabinbael said, looking up from the trama root whose thorns she was cutting off. "You honor us." Fen took her alchemy knife from her belt and knelt down beside her, joining her in sawing off the thick red thorns.

"Do you know what might be meant by 'the eye of the needle'?" she asked. "It is from a riddle."

"Let me think," she said thoughtfully, sitting back on her heels. "Perhaps you mean the Needle? It is a tall rock column in the Valley of the Wind. I have slept beneath it once or twice. The Valley of the Wind is a valley on the northeast slopes of Red Mountain. The entrance to the valley is marked by Airan's Teeth, two tall rock spires."

"What of the 'teeth of the wind'?" Fen asked, dropping a trama thorn into Shabinbael's basket.

"That would refer to Airan's teeth. The tall stones that mark the entrance to the Valley of Wind."

"And what is the Valley of Wind?"

"There are two valleys, side by side, on the northeast slopes of Red Mountain," Shabinbael explained, setting down her knife and holding up her hands to mime the two valleys. "The westmost valley is called Dry Camp Valley; the camps have no water, but they are sheltered from the wind. Dun-Ahhe Caverns are also there. The Valley of the Wind is the eastmost valley; it runs long and straight south between Airan's Teeth, and climbs toward Red Mountain. The mouths of these valleys are to the east along the coast. You would pass Bthuand, a Dwemer ruin, and just past Zergonipal, a Daedric ruin, then turn south."

Fen went back to Julan and relayed this information to him, and they left the camp, walking east as Shabinbael had advised. The way to Bthuand was riddled with Blighted creatures that posed little threat to them.

"Fen," Julan said suddenly, when they had been walking for about two hours. "What was your life in Mournhold like?" She glanced sideways at him, puzzled. Julan had never seemed very interested in her past, save for the time she had accidentally revealed it. Now, however, he looked genuinely curious.

"Well…it was…different from this." She looked up at the ashy sky, the gray dunes that stretched out around them for miles. "Mournhold is beautiful," she said finally. "I would do anything to go back. The Temple itself was nearly the size of Balmora. On days when I didn't have to work with my tutor, I would sit in the library with my grandmother…" Once she started, Fen found it was hard for her to stop. She told Julan everything she could remember about her life as Princess Fenara – her occasional rebellious ventures into the city with a scarf over her face, watching plays at the outdoor theatre in the Bazaar, standing on the balcony that overlooked the outside of the city on marketday and watching the traders and farmers bringing their carts through the gates, the frequent trips to her grandmother's apartments, discussing books for hours on end.

At some point, reality trickled back into her mind, and Fen realized that they had stopped outside the opening to a long valley that stretched into the distance and disappeared. Two tall rock spires flanked the mouth of the valley.

"This must be it," she said, hoping she hadn't embarrassed Julan by speaking too much. But he didn't look irritated at all – on the contrary, he wore an expression similar to her's, like he wished there was more time to continue the retelling. They were mostly quiet as they walked down through the valley, then up a path that followed the ridge to a small clearing among the stones. Built into the large wall of stone that the path ran into, a large, arched door stood majestically, carved with enormous stars and moons that were surrounded by perfect circles.

"That's it," Fen said, feeling her heart skip a beat. "That has to be it." She glanced at Julan and saw he looked just as anxious as she did. They approached the door and Fen, breathing hard, pressed her hand against it and tried to push.

_The door is locked, and will not open, _an oddly familiar, yet inhuman voice said, echoing around the clearing. _The star is the key. _

"Did you hear that?" Fen said, but Julan shook his head. "It was…a voice. I swear I've heard it before. She said the door is locked, and the star is the key…" Fen leaned against the door, thinking…

"Like Holamayan?"

"What?" she said, looking up.

"Holamayan. Remember? The shell only opened at dawn and at dusk. Maybe this works the same way."

"I suppose there's only one way to find out," Fen said, and she took off her cloak, folded it up, and sat down on it, leaning her back against a tall stone. Julan joined her. "Let's see," Fen said, glancing at her pocketwatch. "It's about four thirty. So we have an hour and a half to wait." She pulled a small bottle of flin out of her bag and a loaf of bread, and they talked and joked aimlessly for a while, grateful that the ashstorms had held off today. When the sky started to turn dusty pink and a few bright stars appeared in the gathering twilight, they stood up, shouldering their cloaks.

"Ready?" Julan asked her, and Fen saw apprehension on his face. She felt the same way – unsure of what to expect within the cavern.

"Ready."


	24. Chapter 24

Together, they pushed against the heavy stone doors. The doors opened this time, grating back to reveal darkness. As Fen and Julan stepped into the dim tunnel, the doors swung shut behind them and light flooded into the back of the room, leaving their part of the tunnel in gloom. Fen saw, at the end of a short passage, a large stone statue of a woman, sitting cross-legged with her head bent and her large, algae-covered hands cupped before her. Luminous mushrooms grew out of the walls around her, bathing her in a greenish light that felt warm and safe to Fen. They also lit up several dark, mummified bodies that were huddled along the walls around the statue, their features elven. Fen walked forward as if in a trance, overwhelmed by a sudden desire to see what the woman held out in front of her. Fen placed her hands on the forefingers of the statue, leaning close to see the small white object that was spinning slowly in midair there.

The object turned to face the front and stopped, and Fen felt her breath catch in her throat. It was a ring, a beautiful ring with a base of white gold and topped with a large golden five-point star over a white crescent moon. _Moon-and-Star. _The ring of Lord Nerevar. The ring that he had made for him to give him great speaking powers, the ring that would kill any person other than himself who tried to wear it…the ring that only the Nerevarine would be able to touch. Fen remembered the mummies around the room. They must have been failed incarnates…she would either join them and die here, or take the ring and become the Nerevarine. Could it be…?

She closed her eyes, thinking of that day half a year ago when she had been condemned to Vvardenfell, never to return to Mournhold again. And that had led to this, her standing over the ring of Lord Nerevar in the Cavern of the Incarnate. Slowly, almost without thinking, Fen reached out and cupped her hands below the floating ring. It fell into her palms, and, instantly, everything went suddenly and terribly dark. Fen felt an odd floating sensation. _I've died,_ she thought. She had failed. But then, out of the darkness, a familiar voice spoke to her.

_Nerevar Reborn, Incarnate,_

_Your first three trials are finished._

_Now, two new trials lie before you._

_Seek the Ashlander Ashkhans and the Great House Councils_

_Four tribes must name you Nerevarine_

_Three Houses must call you Hortator._

_My servant Nibani Maesa will be your guide._

_And when you are Nerevarine and Hortator,_

_When you have stood before the False God_

_And freed the Heart from its prison,_

_Heal my people and restore Morrowind._

_Do this for me, and with my blessing._

Fen's eyes slowly opened and she found she was staring into Azura's palms again, but they were empty. She knelt down and frantically felt the rocky ground for the ring, but then she saw her hand it realized it rested on her finger, glowing brightly in the dimness. She stood up slowly, examining the ring. It looked…right. Somehow. Like it belonged there.

Suddenly remembering Julan, Fen turned around to speak to him, only to see that his eyes were wide and he looked panicked. Had he seen the same vision she had?

"I – I can't stay here," he said suddenly, and there was a flash of light and he was gone. Fen was about to contact him with the telepathy ring, but then she realized that six ghostly figures had appeared around the cavern, one before each mummy, all of them Dunmer that carried mingled expressions of hopefulness and great sorrow in their faces.

Conoon Chodala, an Ashlander chief that had traveled deep into the strongholds of Red Mountain to seek fame.

Hort Ledd, who had died nearly four hundred years ago, who claimed he was a thinker, not a doer.

Idrenie Nerothan, who helped defeat the Akaviri and was adopted into the Ashlanders, dying as she tried to loot Kogoruhn.

Erur-Dan, who watched Morrowind fall to the Empire and suffered the humiliation of his generation, spending the final years of his life fighting the Blight on Red Mountain.

Ane Teria, a priestess that helped write much of the Apographa that was later banned and suppressed.

And Peakstar. Peakstar, the Dunmer woman who had been raised by Ashlanders and persecuted by the Temple. Fen had heard about her from various people, and it was, for some reason, unsurprising that her spirit was here, resting with Azura.

"Welcome, Incarnate, Moon-and-Star Reborn, Hortator, Nerevarine, Mourner of the Tribe Unmourned, Redeemer of the False Gods," she said as Fen moved to stand before her. "I am Peakstar. I was not the one. But I wait and hope. Ask, and I shall answer, if wisdom guides me."

"Not the one?"

"I am a failed Incarnate. So are all these who remain here with me in the Cavern of the Incarnate. I survived the Blight, but I fell in battle with an Ash Vampire. I could not master the arts of war. Nor could I learn the ways of the Great Houses. They would not have accepted me as Hortator.

"The visions of Azura are often obscure, for two reasons. One, because the future cannot be known, and choices may always be made. Two, because truth is not clear or simple. Azura's riddles warn us to think long and hard. They force us to search carefully for truth and meaning, and not to rely only on impulse and force." Peakstar indicated Fen's right hand, and she held it up, letting the ring on her finger glow in the light emanating from the mushrooms. "You bear the Moon-and-Star, the ring of Nerevar. None may deny; you are Nerevar Reborn, the prophesied Incarnate. The Temple will know you as an enemy. Ordinators will mark you for death, and the Tribunal Faithful of the Great Houses will hate and fear you. The doubters of the Tribes will test your strength and doubt your honor. You will be known. You must prepare, and be ready.

"You must go before the Councilors of the Great Houses and satisfy them, for only the Councils of the Great Houses can name you Hortator. I do not know the settled people of the Great Houses, and can offer you no counsel. You must also go before the ashkhans of the Wastes People and satisfy them, for only the ashkhans of the Four Tribes can name you Nerevarine. Speak first with Sul-Matuul of the Urshilaku, and with Wise Woman Nibani Maesa, for of all the Ashlanders, they are wisest in the lore of the Incarnate, and you have already shown Sul-Matuul proof of your worth." Peakstar offered Fen a sad smile. "Pity Dagoth Ur and the Sixth House. All they do, all they are is foul and evil, but they began in brightness and honor, and the cause of their fall was their loyal service to you, Lord Nerevar. You told Lord Dagoth to guard the profane tools beneath Red Mountain, and thus he was tempted. He did your bidding when he tried to keep these tools from the Tribunal, and so he hates you, who betrayed him, and the Tribunal, who mocked his honor, attacked him, and stole the profane tools for their own use. Now go, for we have told you all that we may."

Fen studied Peakstar's face, worn and tired, but alive with new hope. She glanced around the cavern and saw the other failed Incarnates were all watching her with the same expression. The Cavern felt more peaceful than it had when they had entered, as if the very air was permeated by relief. The light around Azura was beginning to dim now – the Cavern was no longer the keeper of Moon-and-Star, and would grow forgotten. Fen made her way back down the tunnel as the bluish-green light faded, glancing back just in time to see Azura's stony face disappear into shadow.

Once outside, the dreamy feeling of the Cavern of the Incarnate dropped, and Fen realized she had no idea where Julan was. Deciding to save the contemplating of her being the Nerevarine for later, Fen activated the telepathy ring. Julan didn't answer though, and Fen found that all she could hear were the sounds of…scribs? But they were oddly muffled, as if underwater. Fen lowered the ring, worried now. Julan had looked terrified when he teleported out of the Cavern, and now it seemed like he had cast off his ring in a pool somewhere. Fen used the ring to teleport to the three yurts on the beach where Julan's mother lived, but as she lifted the tent flap, she found that crates and urns had been pushed up against the doorway, blocking the entrance, and she could hear the muffled sounds of sobbing behind it. Fen let the tent flap drop, thinking…

Perhaps Shani knew where Julan was. Fen made the short journey to the Ahemmusa camp and entered the Healer's yurt, where she found Shani was apparently just preparing to leave.

"Shani," Fen said quickly, taking her arm and leading her outside. "Julan's vanished. I have no idea where he is. We were in the Cavern of the Incarnate and I took the Moon-and-Star ring and then –"

"What? Julan's gone?" she interrupted, then noticed the ring on Fen's finger. "And YOU'RE the Nerevarine?! This...this is insane!" Shani rubbed her eyes. "Okay…okay…what to do, what to do...Right," she said finally, looking up. "You need some answers, I think. I just hope it's not too late. But we can't talk here. Let's go to Vos, to the Tradehouse. I need some fresh air anyway." They made the short, five-minute walk to the Varo Tradehouse, and Shani led the way upstairs to a small storage room crowded with crates. "Right. Okay. We can talk here." She smiled mischievously. "This is where Julan and I used to come to…oh, nevermind." Shani cleared her throat and sat down on a crate. "I told you I'd give you answers. Mashti…made up all of that nonsense about finding Julan under a rock. She's his real mother, and our Ashkahn, Han-Sashael, was his father. When Ahmabi found out, she was so angry that she exiled Mashti from the Ahemmusa."

"And did…did Han-Sashael know?"

"Of course he knew. But he was married to Ahmabi, and it's scary to just be in the same room as her, so of course he didn't let on. Everyone in the camp knew, really. I think Julan might have known too, but he didn't want to believe it. He just wanted to…I dunno, hold onto his pride. He didn't want to just spend his life herding guar." Shani's face darkened. "_I _don't know where he could be, but Mashti knows, I'm sure. Try asking her."

"I went to her yurt, but the door was blocked."

"Mashti _adores _Julan," Shani said dismissively. "She'll let you in if you can do anything to help him. I'll wait here. Come and get me when you find out where he is." Fen agreed and used her ring to teleport back to Mashti's yurt. The mess in front of the door had been cleared, and she went straight inside, finding Mashti sitting before the fire, her eyes red from weeping. She looked up at Fen wearily, but without malice.

"I knew you would come, Outlander. I suppose you want to know where Julan is."

"Yes, I would," Fen said coldly. She was angry at Mashti – not only for lying to Julan, but lying to him about something that nearly got him killed.

"The answer is, I don't know. He came here, he...I told him everything. He allowed me no choice in the matter. You know too, I can tell by your face. So. What would you have me tell you? I am sick of secrets now." She rubbed her eyes wearily.

"Why did you do it?" Fen asked, softened by the sight of Mashti's pain. "Why did you make him think he was Nerevar?"

"Why? We were outcasts. His father would not, or could not acknowledge him. I could never return to my people. What kind of life could I offer my child, reviled and rejected? When I left the Urshilaku I took little with me except my knowledge of the prophecies. So I gave him a dream, a purpose...it was all I could give him. I had nothing else."

"But it wasn't true."

"Not true?" she repeated sharply. "You know nothing about truth, Outlander. No, you speak of facts, and what are facts? Facts mean nothing to me. Julan could have become the Nerevarine, no matter what the prophecies say. There is always another prophecy, and if there is not, then you can make your own. He could have done anything – anything! – that he put his mind to, if he only believed in himself. The fault is mine, for not making him believe enough."

"But he could have been killed!" Fen exclaimed.

"No! I was sure...sure that the gods would protect him. And they did! They sent you – but now I think perhaps that the gods have been laughing at me all along. I know you are the one to bear the Moon-and-Star. Perhaps my son and I have been mere tools to guide you towards your destiny. Or perhaps you will fall, like so many others have done.

"I no longer care about the prophecies. Whether I used them, or they used me, it is all over now. It is finished. I have lost the final thing that it was possible for me to lose. I have lost my son."

"You must know where he might have gone," Fen said hopefully.

"It matters little where he went. He will never return to me, I know that much. I have lost him forever. He never even raised his voice. His face as he left...He looked so much like his father, like Han-Sashael...I know he will not be coming back."

"Han-Sashael," Fen repeated quietly, sitting down beside Mashti. The woman looked into Fen's eyes, and Fen saw the pain there.

"I danced for him, when he came with his men to make trade agreements with my father. All the girls, we performed a sacred dance, before the evening meal. We only called it sacred in order to justify its place as traditional, but we were right. It was sensual and beautiful, and what could be more sacred than that? He came to my yurt that very night. He was charming, and handsome. Perhaps I was a fool, but I believed him when he said he would marry me.

"We left at dawn. By the time we arrived in the Grazelands, I was deeply in love, and stunned by the beauty of my new home. I was happy...too happy. I soon discovered the truth. My new love was already married. He wept, and begged my forgiveness. He had been captivated by my beauty, he had lost his wits, he would make things right, his wife did not understand him, he loved me. Male talk. But I was very young, and I loved him. And I could never return home. So I accepted everything he said.

"He told the tribe that I had come to train as a wise-woman. Ahmabi was suspicious, but she had no proof. I saw him in secret, whenever he could get away. I knew people were talking, but I cared little for their opinion. I was happy. But of course it could not last. I became pregnant, and we could no longer conceal the truth from his wife. You know the rest. He never said a word in my defense when she wove her lies to cast me out. Not one word." Mashti closed her eyes and was silent for a time. When she opened them, she didn't look at Fen, but stared straight into the fire.

"Look at this." She stood up suddenly, going to a chest and rummaging inside until she came out with a beautiful guar hide gown, sewn with intricate embroidery that moved all around the gown in a fantastic flow of motion. "Once, it was going to be my wedding dress. My sisters and I sewed it, when I was betrothed to my father's gulakahn, and I took it with me when I left with Sashael. Of course, I never used it. Here, you take the thing," she thrust the gown at Fen, suddenly. "Perhaps you know a girl who might like it. I have kept it too long already, and it has nothing but sad memories. It's only a dress, someone else should wear it, and make new memories for it. Or throw it away, I care not."

"Thank you," Fen said slowly, carefully folding the dress. "I'm sorry to be blunt, but I really need to know where –"

"Where Julan is," Mashti finished for her. "The last time he left me, when I told him to abandon that girl from the camp, he later told me that he had been living in a cave to the south-west of here. I think he said it was west of the cave known as Dun-Ahhe, in the mountains near an outcast camp. Perhaps he is there, perhaps not. But before you go..." Mashti slowly took a folded scrap of torn parchment from her dress. "He asked me to give you this. I don't know what it says, I never learned to read. Take it. And leave me." Mashti closed her eyes again, and Fen quietly left the yurt, the grubby bit of parchment clutched in her hand. It had begun to rain, so Fen hurried across the sand to Julan's yurt. She pulled aside the tent flap and ducked inside.

Julan's tent was a complete mess. There were stray boots strewn about, books stacked messily on the table, a shirt draped over the stool near the cold firepit, an old pewter plate crusted with old food and a fork. The room felt strongly of Julan, and for a moment, she just stood there, staring around at everything. Firmly reminding herself that he was probably fine, just moping in a cave somewhere, Fen unfolded the note and began to read.

_Fen,_

_Sorry for running off like that. I needed some ansers and well now I have them. I just need to figure out what to do with them._

_Dont worry or anything like that Im fine I just want to think. And dont think Im angry about you being nerevarine in a way I think I knew it all along. Or maybe I just always knew I wasnt. Doesnt matter much now I suppose._

_Anyway looks like I wont be needing a trainer any more and you never did need me and least of all now. I know youll make a good Nerevar better than me anyway but thats not hard._

_Keep an eye on Sha for me wont you. And mother too I suppose funny how just when I find out she really is my mother I dont want to call her that any more._

_Good luck but you dont need it._

_J._

Fen stared at the words until her eyes blurred. It didn't matter that the penmanship was sloppy and childlike or that every other word was wrong. It could have been written in Daedric, and the meaning would have been the same. The note was completely and utterly final.


	25. Chapter 25

Fen departed early the next morning, making sure to keep herself busy as she alternated between climbing and levitating up the rocky slopes of the Ashlands. She focused all her thoughts on getting to the next precipice, stepping on a rock that would hold her weight, conserving her magicka so she could levitate over a particularly rough section of rock. She didn't want her mind to stray to Julan, for she felt that if they did, she wouldn't be able to continue. The fear of finding him dead was too great.

Before long, Fen located the door Mashti had been referring to, set into the cliff face high above the trail. The afternoon was warm and stale, but there were no clouds and no threat of an ashstorm. Fen examined the door – it had been overgrown with a thick patch of vines, but they looked like they had been cut away and stamped flat fairly recently.

Fen stepped over the vines and pushed open the door, finding herself in a dim, yellowish cavern with a low, rocky ceiling. Round, pulsating sacs that glowed orange were attached to the walls, ceiling and floor and a strong scent of kwama cuttle in the air._ An eggmine, _she thought, glancing around. She heard the scuttling of scribs down a short hallway and, remembering what she had heard through the telepathy ring, went to investigate. There were five or six scribs, kwama larvae, moving around a small pool of water. They let off a high pitched shrieking noise when they saw Fen and scuttled up the walls, their round green eyes staring.

Fen cast a detect enchantment spell, and a shower of white sparks suddenly burst forth from the water. Fen stripped off her robe and waded into the water, dunking her head under the filmy surface and grabbing the ring that the sparks had appeared out of. Stepping out of the water and drying herself off, Fen examined the ring and saw it was identical to her's, aside from the fact that the stone was blue rather than green. Julan's telepath ring. Fen glanced up. He had to be here somewhere, if he had cast off his ring into this pool.

She soon came to a very dark cavern filled with water at the bottom. A door stood on a ledge above the water, and it was guarded by a robed ancestral ghost, floating eerily before it. Fen climbed up onto the ledge and moved towards the ghost, a spell ready, but it did not seem to want to fight her.

_No,_ it hissed in a strange, harsh voice as she approached. It's bony jaw did not move. _You shall not enter this place. Leave now._

"Do you have Julan Kaushibael?" Fen said firmly, unfazed. She had faced worst than a ghost in a dark eggmine.

_He is ours now. _Fen's heart sank

"You mean…he's dead?"

_He still walks the earth, but he is ours now. He will hear our words. He will do our bidding._

"Who are you?" Fen demanded, her voice rising slightly. "What have you done to him?"

_We are the ancestors of the Ahemmusa. For too long, he has ignored our cries for vengeance. For blood. But now his mind is cleared of the lies of his mother, and at last he can hear us. We have waited too long. But now he is ours. He will do our bidding._

"And what is your bidding?" Fen asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

_Blood. We demand blood._

"Just…just let me talk to him," she said imploringly, her firm stance slipping slightly.

_No. He is ours now. He has no more need for lies and trickery._

"I'm his friend. Maybe I can help him do your…bidding." The ghost paused, as if listening to voices that Fen could not hear.

_Yes. Perhaps you can help him, if you are a friend to him. But bring me some token of his that proves you are truly joined in friendship. Then I will let you pass. _For a moment, Fen felt hopelessness overwhelm her, but then she remembered Julan's telepathy ring and quickly pulled it out of her bag. The blue stone glinted weakly in the darkness.

"This is his telepathy ring." She slipped her's off her finger. "And this is mine. We can communicate to one another with them if we're apart." The ghost seemed to study them thoughtfully.

_That ring... you say it is his, and that you have another... and these allow you to communicate with each other?_ Fen nodded._ Yes...I can sense his spiritual impression upon it. Very well. You are his friend, and you may pass. But remember – he is ours now. _With that, the ghost vanished, and the door it had been guarding swung open. Relieved, Fen put away Julan's ring and slid her's back on her finger, then entered the cavern.

These tunnels were much darker than the eggmine, purplish in lighting and lined with strange, pulsating crystals. Fen followed the twists and turns, occasionally passing an ancestral ghost. They did not speak, but their many-layered voices whispered as she passed them.

_...It helps, at times, to suffer into truth..._

_...Revenge will hunt the godless day and night – the destined end awaits..._

_...The madness haunts the midnight watch, the empty terror shakes you..._

_...The dead take root beneath the soil, they grow with hate..._

She hurried past them, trying to ignore their whispers. After following the tunnels for what felt like hours, she came to a round hole overlooking a low pit. There was a bedroll and a fire in the corner of the pit, but what Fen noticed the most was a young dark-haired man, sprinting from place to place in the pit and shouting nonsense while a solid wall of ghosts swarmed around him, their inhuman voices carrying up to her.

_Blood._

"Julan!" Fen shouted, jumping down into the pit. She ran over to him, grabbed his arm, but he pushed her away, his eyes wild, and sprinted to a different part of the pit, the ghosts following him and immediately converging on him. _Blood_. "Stop it!" she shouted at them. "Please! Stop it!"

_Earthwalker, _one of the ghosts hissed, turning away from its fellows to speak to her while the others pursued Julan._ Why are you addressing us? This is clan business, family business. You have no place in this._

"Please stop it," Fen begged. "You're hurting him!"

_Yes, we are hurting him. Because he will not listen. So we make him listen. Until he agrees to carry out vengeance for our kin._

"It's not helping!" she shouted. "You're going to break his mind!"

_His mind matters little. What matters is blood – shared blood and spilled. We called to him in his dreams, but the lies of his mother made him unable to listen. Now he can hear us – but still he resists!_

"Whose blood is it you want?"

_We demand blood in payment for that of our fallen brother, Han-Sashael. He lies unburied in the Daedra caves, cruelly slain through a woman's evil and jealous love. She must pay, and his bones must be returned to the tribe for burial._

"Yes, well, I'll make sure he knows that," Fen said quickly. "Just get out of his head!"

_He _must_ do our bidding. We are his ancestors. His father was murdered. His duty of vengeance is clear._

"Yes, but you aren't making much progress with that, are you?" The ghost paused, its empty eye sockets gazing critically at her. "Let me talk to him."

_Very well, _it hissed finally._ But know this – if he resists, we will return. And he will find no rest until he obeys us._ With that, all the ghosts in the room vanished, their harsh voices gone and leaving the cavern mercifully silent. Julan squatted on the ground, his head bent and his hands pulling at his hair, shaking. Fen went over and placed a hand gently on his shoulder, kneeling beside him.

"Julan?" He looked up at her slowly, his eyes terrified, then glanced around the pit. He seemed to relax, but only slightly.

"Looks like you've saved me again," he said with a shaky laugh. "Thank you. A lot. It's just…"

"Issues with relatives?" Fen said with a smile, and Julan grinned weakly.

"I went to my mother. She told me everything." He shook his head and sat back, leaning against the wall of the pit. "I can't believe it. I have to confront her."

"To kill her?" Fen asked warily. Julan sighed.

"I don't know. I just…we'll have to see. Can we get out of here first? Before my crazy ancestors come back?" Fen led the way back out of the maze of tunnels, then through the eggmine and back outside. It had grown dark in the time since Fen had entered the mine.

"So, what now?" Julan said as he firmly shut the door on the eggmine. "Do you think I should go home and face my mother? I don't feel ready for this, but then, I'm not sure I ever will."

"You should," she replied. "And I'll be there. Just promise me you'll talk to her before you try to kill her."

"Of course I will…she is my mother, after all…" He drifted off, gazing out over the dark, purplish mountains of the Ashlands. In the distance, a lone silt strider navigated the foyadas, its grim moan echoing across the hills.

"Let's teleport there now, all right?" She handed him his ring.

"Right," Julan said, and they activated their rings. In an instant, they stood in the sand before Mashti's yurt. The tide had gone out, and the sand before the yurts was littered with small creatures and broken shells.

"Are you ready?" Fen asked him, and he nodded, his jaw set, and led the way into the yurt.

"Julan!" Mashti cried when they entered, leaping up from where she had been crouched. Her eyes were wild. "My child, you must –"

"Be silent!" he shouted, drawing his sword and directing it at her throat. "I 'must' nothing. I'm here for answers from you, and nothing more. I know you murdered my father. But I want to hear it from you. Why you did it. And why I shouldn't kill you where you stand." There was a long silence. Fen had never seen this side of Julan before, and she remained quiet, watching Mashti readily. Fen was not prepared to forgive Julan's mother either. Not yet.

"So. That is why you have come. You ask me why I murdered Han-Sashael? I shall tell you anything you wish."

"You did do it," Julan snarled. "You admit it."

"But you know everything, do you not?" Mashti said bitterly. "If you know that I killed him, then surely you know the rest? Please, tell all the sins of your wicked mother, since you know them so well."

"I know what the scout said happened. I never believed it could be true, until now."

"But now you believe it. And you no longer believe your mother."

"You speak nothing but lies. Lies to hide your shame and your failure. Everything they said about you was true, yet I defended you. But you...you are despicable. You lured him to his death in some cave."

"Some cave...?" she muttered incredulously. "The cave is known as Sanit. It lies south of here. Its tunnels run deep, even running beneath Red Mountain. It is the source of the Daedra and corprus beasts invading these lands. Sashael... he was so bold, so reckless. Drunk with the thrill of the chase, perhaps he thought that he could drive back the beasts beneath the mountain, and finally make his people safe..."

"He was lured there by you!" Julan shouted. "I know you can summon Hungers, and make them obey you! You were seen approaching the cave!"

"Yes, I was watching. I scarcely believed that he could be so foolish..."

"Shut up! You KILLED the guard! Then you entered the cave to finish the job!"

"You really killed the guard?" Fen asked quietly, and they both looked at her.

"I did," Mashti said bluntly. "He refused to let me come near him. His fear made him rash...and I was forced to defend myself. I had to follow Sashael, to stop him. I had seen the things that dwelt deep in that cave. There was far worse than mere Hungers in there."

"Oh, so you went in to _save_ him?" Julan snarled. "Ha! Funny how they all ended up dead, then, isn't it? And you came out without a scratch!"

"I... I was too late," Mashti whispered, tears pooling in her eyes, her hands shaking. "His men were dead, and he...he had gone deeper in, lost in a haze of slaughter. Killing all in his path, unaware he was the only one still standing. I ran and ran through caves full of corpses, but deep beneath the mountain the tunnels were dark and maze-like, and I could not find him. I heard him, dying, but I could not...I never even found his body." Julan said nothing, but his face had lost some of its hardness.

"I shut myself in my yurt for a week. I said that I was praying to Azura, so that my son might not know of my grief."

"I…I remember that," Julan muttered, lowering his sword slowly. Fen placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Maybe she's telling the truth," she said gently.

"Believe me, or do not believe me," Mashti said wearily. "It is the truth. I am sick of lies, and now it matters not. He is lost to me, and now you too are lost to me. Nothing matters to me now."

"Perhaps I might believe you," Julan said finally. "But...why did you never tell me, while he lived? He was my father, and I never knew him. How could you deny me that chance?"

"Deny? What have I denied you? The chance to be rejected and reviled, as I have been! If you would tell me of my sins, then tell of his as well. He denied you, not I, he refused you as his son. I merely spared you the pain of knowing it. I loved you too much to make you endure what I suffered. And now you truly know all I have to tell you. You may kill me now, if that is your wish. I have no reason to live longer."

"Let's go outside, Fen," Julan muttered, sheathing his sword and ducking out of the yurt. Fen cast a glance at Mashti, keeled over before the fire, her face hidden, and followed as Julan walked up to the water and gazed out at the cold, hard gray surface of the sea.

"Are you all right?" she asked quietly.

"I know what I have to do now," Julan said after a moment. "I have to recover my father's bones." Fen looked up at him. "My father's body lies deep in the tunnels beneath Red Mountain. His spirit cannot rejoin the tribal ancestors, and so he cannot protect the tribe. I have to return his bones, so they can be properly buried. Only then can the Ahemmusa regain their strength, with the support of his powerful spirit!"

"But what about vengeance for his death? I thought the ancestors told you that Mashti had to die."

"I'm still not sure about that. Perhaps if I find where my father died, there will be evidence of what happened, and some way of proving if Mother's story is true."

"What if she did kill him?" Fen asked quietly.

"Then...I'll do whatever I have to. It's my duty. You see, I realized...I'm not the Nerevarine, and I never was. But one thing was true all along – I have a sacred mission to save my people. And now I know how. But I think it's time we talked about you. And what you will do, now that you are the Nerevarine."

"Oh," Fen said, glancing down at the ring on her finger. "I nearly forgot." Julan chuckled.

"It's really okay, you know," Julan went on. "I meant what I said in my letter. You did get that, didn't you? Everything just seems to make more sense now."

"No, it doesn't," Fen said, staring at the ring. "This is insane. I can't be the Nerevarine." She shook her head. "It still hasn't hit me yet."

"I understand how you feel. Believe me, I thought the same thing many times. But I always knew there was something special about you." He smiled. "You're going to be a great hero. I don't think you're going to need my help. Still, I'm going to offer it to you anyway. You were ready to follow me up Red Mountain once, and may Sheogorath take me if I won't do the same for you."

"I thought you didn't want to travel with me anymore," Fen said wryly. "You threw your telepathy ring away, remember?"

"That was before I knew what I had to do," he said simply. "And I never said I didn't want to help you, I just didn't think you would want my help. I'm still not sure why you came looking for me. You have your own destiny now, and you won't need me to fulfill it."

"You don't need me either," Fen replied. "You were right that you don't need a trainer anymore. But I think both of us could use a friend." Julan's face broke into a grin.

"You're right. As usual!" He grinned. "Come on, let's get going. I have to save my tribe, and you have to save the whole of Morrowind! Gods, you'd better not let your ego get the better of you, or you'll be worse than Shani!"

"Shani!" Fen said suddenly, remembering. "I told Shani I'd let her know as soon as I found you. Is it all right if we stop by the Varo Tradehouse?" Julan complied, and they started off across the long, dark grasses slick with dew towards the flickering lights of Tel Vos.


	26. Chapter 26

"You're back!" Shani exclaimed as Fen and Julan entered the storage room. "You're both all right, aren't you? And Julan, you don't have to apologize for anything," she added as he opened his mouth. "We can talk about it later, but...I think I understand." She yawned. "I should head for home now. After I got trapped in that cave, I made our wise-woman teach me how to cast teleportation magic, so I suppose I'll just Recall home now. But do come and say hello soon, won't you? Or..." Shani smiled hopefully. "Maybe you wouldn't mind if I came along with you sometimes? I've been doing some training, so I'm not as weak as I was. I don't want to go anywhere too dangerous, I'm no adventurer like you and Julan. But I would like to see more of Vvardenfell."

"You can come along now, if you like," Fen said before Julan could speak. Despite Shani's over exaggerated emotions, Fen was beginning to enjoy her company. Shani's face lit up.

"Really? I'll be no trouble, I promise! You'll barely know I'm here!" Julan snorted disbelievingly, but they both ignored him. "Maybe you can show me where you get all those beautiful things you wear!" She slipped a ring with a pink stone off her finger. "Here, take this. Sinnammu made it for me, she says it'll help us stay in touch."

"Great," Fen said, taking the ring. "We're going to have to go a cave now, Shani, if you don't mind." She said she didn't, and they left the Tradehouse and started to walk, first going to Kaushibael camp, then turning south as Mashti had described. Fen and Julan explained Mashti's story to Shani as they went.

"So what are you going to do?" Shani asked quietly when they had finished.

"Find the remains of my father," Julan told her, his face set. "As for Mashti…I'm going to have to wait and see. Is that it?" he said suddenly, stopping abruptly. Fen followed his gaze and saw he was looking at a worn cavern door set into the hillside. She approached it and saw _SANIT _was carved into the wood.

"This is it." Fen made sure both Julan and Shani had a few healing potions, then pushed open the door. They were immediately met by an Ash Slave, which, faced against all three of them, was quickly dispatched. As the Ash Slave fell, Fen glanced around. The cavern was lit with red candles.

"This isn't a daedra cave!" Julan exclaimed angrily. "This is Sixth House! Those _bastards _built a base over my father's bones!"

"They have to be deeper than this, though," Fen said, starting down the tunnel. "And if the ancestors are still bothering you, I'm sure the bones are still here." They continued through the tunnels, going around the twists and turns, killing the Sixth House beasts they met along the way. Fen was worried Shani would be overwhelmed, but she looked almost cheerful as she stood back and peppered the monsters with arrows whenever they came across one.

"Hey Julan," she said jokingly after they had killed a corprus beast. "You would feel right at home in the Sixth House. This guy could be your brother, you look so much alike."

"Shut up," Julan snapped, but Fen could detect the flicker of a smile on his face. After what they had experienced in Ilunibi, she doubted that there was another Sixth House base that would unsettle them terribly.

They finally made their way up to a shrine, which was populated by three naked Dreamers. When the Dreamers had been dispatched (followed by Julan and Shani sniggering), Fen started to poke around the shrine. She found a sacrificial trough holding rotting chunks of flesh and wondered vaguely if they were there a result of the deranged minds of the corprus beasts or being gathered for a more sinister purpose.

"Hey, Fen, come look at this." She went to the other side of the shrine, where Julan and Shani were peering into a large, dark hole cut into the wall. Fen joined them and saw a faint light on the other end.

"It looks like this would go down to the older parts of the cavern," she said. "Want to have a look?" They climbed through the hole, one by one, and soon found themselves on a ledge overlooking a tall cavern. On the ground below them, a clannfear and a Golden Saint, a woman-like Daedra with gold armor, stood around a cluster of bright red mushrooms.

"This is more like it," Julan whispered. "Daedra caves." Fen used God's Fire again, a spell she was beginning to like quite a lot, and with a few more ranged attacks from Julan and Shani the Daedra fell dead, leaving the room clear for them to climb down into. They found these caverns were populated entirely by Daedra – this had to be the place Mashti had been talking about. They made their way slowly through the maze-like tunnels, often getting lost and having to double back to find a tunnel they hadn't yet gone down. Shani went back up to the Sixth House shrine and came back with a broken bit of chalk, which they used to mark the passages they had already gone down.

Fen was just started to become frustrated when they found a new passageway. At the bottom, there was a small circular room that held only one thing – a dead Dreamer woman, lying facedown with a scrap of grubby parchment beside her.

"Looks like Dagoth Ur makes them too insane, if they wander down here," Julan remarked as Fen picked up the note and began to read.

_i cannot remember his face._

_WHY DID I COME_

_they said WHAT?_

_said what made me come._

_AND NOW I CANNOT_

_they took everything i thought i gave everything AND YET SOMETHING REMAINS. something made me_

_MADE ME WHAT?_

_THE ALTAR, RUN FROM FROMFROM_

_THROUGH THE HOLE BLACK, BLACK_

_something still remains, BUT FOR WHAT? FOR?_

_no way out. just tunnels tunnels and the magic door, but only for them, the thin ones with the nails I KNEW THE WORDS ONCE_

_words what words? nothing nothing. perhaps they will take me through with them soon, i see them carrying many things through, presents for their mother._

_mother?_

_MOTHER_

_I CANNOT REMEMBER HIS FACE_

_soon i shall not remember not remembering._

_and i shall never know if this would have mattered to me long ago._

"What's it say?" Shani asked, peering over Fen's shoulder.

"It looks like she wandered down here from the shrine…a magic door…the thin ones with nails…" Fen looked up at the corpse of a Hunger they had just killed. "There's some kind of door we need to get through, and only a Hunger can open it," she said slowly.

"How's that going to work?" Julan asked skeptically. "'Excuse me, would you be a dear and open this door for us rather than trying to maul us? Thanks!'"

"Maybe if we just lure one of them close enough to the door, it'll open," Shani suggested.

"First we need to find the door," Fen said. They went back up through the caverns, carefully going past all the marked tunnels until they found one without a white chalk streak on it.

"How did we miss this?" Shani muttered, drawing a line outside the tunnel with the chalk as they started down it. They had barely gone three paces when they met a Hunger.

"Run past it!" Fen shouted. "The door has to be at the end of this tunnel!" The three of them sprinted down the uneven passageway, dodging the Hunger's spells, until they reached a large cavern at the end. There was a great hole here that was blocked by some sort of strange Daedric barrier. Fen, Julan, and Shani ran right up to the barrier and Fen quickly handed both of them resist magicka potions. They downed the potions and the Hunger soon ran out of spells and ran over to attack them. As soon as it got close enough, the barrier vanished and the three of them, plus the Hunger, fell through the dark hole and landed on the other side. Fen quickly put the Hunger out of its misery with a fire spell, then stood up.

"That wasn't so hard," Julan said brightly, dusting himself off.

"Um….Fen? Julan?" Shani whispered, staring past them. Fen and Julan turned around, and Fen felt her stomach drop. They were standing in a high-ceilinged cavern, dominated by an enormous Hunger, at least five times the size of an Ogrim.

"M…Mephala…" Julan muttered.

The Hunger noticed them suddenly, and it let out a furious snarl that made dust shower down from the ceiling of the cavern.

"Shani, you stay back and use your bow on it," Fen said quickly. "Julan, come up to it with me and use your jinkblade."

"_Up _to it?" Julan said incredulously, but Fen ignored him, summoning a Golden Saint with a scroll Skink had given her and pointing a finger. The Saint ran forward, followed by Julan, and Fen stood level with Shani, carefully aiming a fire spell at the Hunger's head. The spell, however, struck the Hunger and vanished, clearly having no effect on it. Fen tried a similar frost spell, but the Hunger resisted this too. She tried a shock spell and a poison spell in quick succession, but neither did any damage. Beside her, Shani had jumped onto a rock for a better aim and was rapidly firing arrows towards the Hunger. Julan and the Golden Saint hacked at the Hunger's legs side by side.

Not wanting to just stand back and be useless, Fen drew the Staff of Magnus, which she had started carrying on her back at all times, and used its drain health spell on the Hunger, praying it would work. The Hunger took several halting steps backward when her spell hit it, and she fired the Staff again, relieved. Then, quite suddenly, the Hunger stepped over Julan and the summoned Saint as if they were insects and stormed across the room towards Fen and Shani. Shani screamed and slipped on the rock and the arrows she had been shooting hit the ceiling and ricocheted towards Fen. She dove out of the way, hitting the rocky ground hard, skinning the heels of her hands. Fen quickly scrambled to her feet as she heard Shani scream again. The Hunger had struck her with one long-nailed finger, throwing her back out of the hole they had come through.

"Shani!" she heard Julan shout, and his voice made the enormous Hunger turn towards him instead. Fen cast another drain health spell at it, but the Hunger was lumbering towards Julan, screeching, and the Saint had vanished…

Fen scrambled onto Shani's rock and hurled the Staff of Magnus with all her might. It struck the creature with a solid _thunk _in the back of the head, and it wobbled, then collapsed on the ground, breathing shallowly while the Staff clattered to the ground. Julan seized the chance and ran forward, sliding his jinkblade smoothly into the Hunger's chest. It let out a high-pitched wail, then stilled as Julan drew his jinkblade out. For a brief moment, Fen and Julan just stared at one another, breathing hard, then a low groan from the previous chamber brought them back to their senses.

"Shani," Fen said breathlessly, and they climbed hastily over the rocks together to where she was on the ground, cradling her arm.

"I think my wrist is broken," she said, wincing as Fen took it.

"That's easy to fix," Fen said, relieved it wasn't anything worse. She placed two fingers on the top of Shani's wrist and cast a healing spell. Shani's whole arm glowed briefly, then grew dim again.

"Thanks," she said, rotating her hand gingerly. She stood up, and Fen and Julan followed suit. "Gods, what _was _that thing?"

"Well, I'll just hazard a guess, but I think it might have been a giant Hunger," Julan answered wryly as they climbed back through the hole.

"Shut up," Shani snapped, shoving him. Fen, meanwhile, went forward to examine the oversized Daedra. As she was looking over its massive husk of a body, she noticed something – a fairly rusted iron tanto, stuck in the skin of the creature's thick back. The skin had grown thick and callused over the blade of the sword – it had clearly been there for some time. When Fen leaned close, she saw _HAN-SASHAEL _engraved on the shaft of the blade.

"Julan," she said, gesturing. He and Shani came over and he peered at the blade. For a while, Julan just stared, his expression unreadable. Then, wordlessly, he pulled it out of the creature's hide, letting blood well up around the wound. Julan cleaned the sword off on his pants and took the jinkblade out of its sheath, dropping it on the ground and replacing it with Han-Sashael's sword. Fen walked away and bent over to pick up the Staff of Magus, whose enamel was a bit scuffed but seemed mostly fine.

"Julan…what's that?" Fen looked up and saw Shani was pointing to a large doorway that the Hunger seemed to have been guarding. Fen could see a pool of lava and a stone pathway leading upward, but the rest of the cavern was in darkness. Julan walked past Shani and went through the doorway, a determined look on his face. Fen and Shani exchanged a glance and followed.

The climb up the stone walkway was short, and at the top, a skeleton lay on the ground. Standing over it was the translucent spirit of a man, a Dunmer man in Bonemold armor had had a high-boned face framed by dark hair. He looked, Fen realized, almost exactly like Julan.

"Ha! Han-Julan!" the man exclaimed as they came to a stop. He broke into a grin and spoke in a sharp, quick voice that sounded like some sort of Ashlander dialect. He sounded oddly strident and distant at the same time.

"I..."

"Julan, what did he say?" Fen whispered.

"You do not understand me, Han-Julan?" the man said imperiously. "Ha! You are no son of mine, then, who no longer speaks the language of his people!" Julan blinked.

"He said 'What took you so long?'"

"Oh, so you do still remember some of your culture, do you? Ai, these young ones of the tribe, all speaking the tongue of the n'wah, talking like outlanders, forgetting the language of their ancestors..."

"I'm – I'm just a bit out of practice, that's all."

"Ai, such a generation we have upon us. No respect for the tribe. No respect for the ancestors. Leave their father's bones to rot in a cave for three years, his soul trapped, unable to join with the tribal spirits. How will the tribe survive, with such children as this?"

"You're right," Julan said quietly. "I've failed you. I'm sorry."

"What?" Fen interjected indignantly. "Julan didn't fail you, you failed him! He didn't even know you were his father!" The ghost's grin vanished and he looked at Fen with a hard eye.

"You shall not judge me, outlander. There are others who have that task. Such as my son here. He has the right to demand those answers from me."

"No. I demand nothing," Julan said. "I understand how it was. You made a mistake – a brief affair, an unwanted pregnancy. What could you do but deny it? Your honor could not be stained by such a thing, your wife was too respected. And you had her feelings to consider. You could not shame the woman you loved by raising another's son as your own, while she remained childless. I cannot blame you. I...it was a mistake, and you dealt with it as you had to."

"You have every right to be angry," Fen hissed.

"A mistake?" Han-Sashael repeated. "Yes, I made a terrible mistake. I married the woman my parents wanted me to, because she was a most religious woman, a respected servant of Boethiah, although I did not love her as she loved me. And when she threatened to summon her Daedric lord to destroy you and your mother, I made a deal with her. She would let you live, even allow you into the camp, so long as I never named you as son, never even spoke your name.

"Another mistake," Han-Sashael said, his strange voice rippling around the cavern. "I see now I was a fool to think she would harm you, since she would lose her hold over me, and any little love I held for her would be destroyed. But in my folly and panic, I swore binding oaths to the gods and the ancestors, staking the very safety of the tribe.

"It was always my plan to tell you. When you were a man, and had nothing to fear from Ahmabi and her threats. But it is not an easy thing to do, after nearly twenty years...and I had sworn oaths that were dangerous to break. So I hesitated, like a fool. But then..." He nodded to Shani, who stood behind Fen, "your Shani came to me, weeping, and told me of your mother's plan for you. That you were to go to Red Mountain and defeat the devil. That you had to know the truth before it was too late.

"I sent for you, but you were not to be found. So I went to Ahmabi, and demanded that she release me from my oaths. I no longer cared about her threats. She obeyed me, or, she let me think so. No doubt she prayed to Boethiah that very night. What did she pray for, I wonder? I cannot think she intended my death, as, for all her faults, she loved me. But the Daedra interpret requests as it suits them, for their own amusement. She received the trap that ended my life on the next day's morning hunt.

"I have made many mistakes in my life. Many, many regrets. But loving your mother, and fathering you, these things I have never regretted. It was the most joy I ever knew, even if it brought the most sorrow. And now you are here, fulfilling my greatest hopes for you. You will return my bones, and save the Ahemmusa. Take them, and release me from this place. My spirit will no longer retain this mind, and these memories. I shall become one with the ancestors.

"Farewell, Han-Julan," he said softly, placing a translucent hand on Julan's shoulder. "You will serve the Ahemmusa better than I did." With that, the figure vanished, and Julan touched his shoulder lightly, as if still feeling his father's hand there.

Neither Fen nor Shani spoke. They merely watched as Julan gathered the bones of his father in his arms, then walked past them and towards the exit of the cavern. They followed him in silence back the way they had come, through the hole in the shrine then down through the Sixth House base, until they came outside. It was late in the afternoon, and the sky was churning and gray, thunder booming faintly overhead. The breeze rustled the grasses around them, and they could hear the sea slapping the rocks on the coast restlessly.

"Gods, I need to move around," Shani said, breaking the long silence. She strode off towards the water, leaving Fen and Julan standing outside Sanit in the tall, waving grass.

"I got the bones," Julan said quietly. "We should return them to Sinnammu Mirpal, so she can prepare the proper burial rituals." Fen touched his shoulder.

"Julan? Are you okay?"

"Yeah... I'm fine. Just tired." Julan carefully lowered the bones to the ground and rubbed his neck. "I thought I'd feel different about this, somehow. I thought if I returned his bones, I'd feel like I was really his son, or something. And, he even spoke to me, and said the kinds of things a father should say...but...he's still not my father. Just this man I hardly knew.

"But...I think...it'll be all right. I was too hard on Mother, but I'll talk to her about everything later. We'll work things out." Julan smiled. "So, yes, I'm okay. Thanks for asking. Hey, Shani!" Shani came jogging back over to them, and they started the walk back to the Ahemmusa camp as rain began to fall. The wise woman gasped when they entered her yurt, Julan's arms full of his father's bones.

"Julan! You have returned them!" Julan carefully lowered them to the ground before her. "I shall carry out the necessary rituals as soon as possible." She took Julan's hands in her's. "This is a wonderful thing you have done for the tribe. You must tell me everything that has passed." Julan haltingly explained how the three of them had found the bones, then, after prodding from Fen, the role of Ahmabi in his father's death.

"So... this is how it was," Sinnammu said, her face dark. "And we blamed Mashti all this time. I believe you, but there are many in the tribe who will not. Ahmabi is known as a religious woman, and a loving wife. You must make her confess her crime, if you would prove Mashti Kaushibael innocent. She is easily angered, and if you provoke her, she may admit all. I shall be listening outside, to bear witness to you." Sinnammu followed them out of the yurt and stood just outside the ashkahn's tent, her expression grim. Julan went in first, and Fen and Shani followed. When the tent flap fell closed behind them, Ahmabi's shriek filled the yurt.

"What is HE doing here?! How DARE you come here! What do you want from me?!" She reached out suddenly, as if to claw at Julan's face, but he drew Han-Sashael's sword and pointed it at her, making her freeze where she stood. Ahmabi caught sight of the blade and the color drained from her face.

"I know Han-Sashael was my father, and I know about your little bargain."

"And we know how your husband really died!" Shani quipped from behind Fen. Ahmabi shot her a piercing glare, and this seemed to egg Shani on. "How could you do that to your husband, you faithless bitch? You murdered him, and let Mashti take the blame!"

"How – How DARE you say that! She DID kill him! She tried to TAKE him FROM me! She FORCED me to act, to protect my marriage! To demand of my Lord that He carry out my bidding, as an act of SELF-DEFENSE!"

"So what did you pray for?" Fen asked. "The night you brought about your husband's death?"

"I prayed that he might never breathe a word of truth to his bastard spawn!" she hissed, pointing a withered finger at Julan. "But more than that, I prayed for VENGEANCE! I prayed that that WITCH might know half the pain I felt when he betrayed me for her! And the only joy left to me now in this blighted world is that in that, at least, I succeeded!"

"Well the truth is out now," Julan said scathingly. "The ancestors want your blood, Ahmabi."

"Curse the ancestors, just as I long ago cursed the gods!" she screamed, taking a shaky step backwards. "And curse you three, for I will not give you the satisfaction of taking my life! Lord Boethiah, if you care anything for one who was once your servant, avenge me!" Faster than Julan could move, Ahmabi whipped a silver dagger from her belt and plunged it into her heart, blood welling on her robe as she folded gracelessly to the dirt floor. A bright white light suddenly filled the tent and three Hungers stood clustered over Ahmabi's body, immediately lunging at Fen, Shani, and Julan. There was a confusion of arrows and spells aimed at the Hungers, then silence. When the dust cleared, Fen saw that the roof of the yurt had been blasted off. One of her spells had hit a chest that had been filled with books, and burning pages floated gently to the ground. Ahmabi lay on the floor of the yurt, blood pooling beneath her and the gangly bodies of the Hungers draped over her. Julan stared at Ahmabi's body, his expression blank. Gently, Fen took one of his arms and Shani took the other, and they led him out of the yurt to find that what appeared to be the entire Ahemmusa tribe was assembled outside, Sinnammu at their head.

"Welcome, all of you," she said, stepping forward. "I heard everything - in truth, the whole tribe did. Ahmabi will be mourned, but what has happened is for the best. We cannot keep such poison in the camp. Tell Mashti that her exile is lifted, and both Julan and Fen welcome here once more. Fen, if you are truly Nerevarine, then our prayers and hopes go with you. For now, I shall name you as a Champion of the Ashlanders. And Julan...I think they will call you a great ashkhan someday." Julan seemed to choke suddenly.

"I can see from his face that he does not think I am serious," Sinnammu said with a smile, lowering her voice and walking towards them, away from the tribe. "But I have been thinking. Tell me, Julan, why did you go to fetch your father's bones?"

"So…so that his spirit might return to the tribe, and we would be strong once more."

"Yes," Sinnammu replied, laying her hands on Julan's shoulders. "And you succeeded, but Sashael's bones were not the cause. You carry your father's spirit, Julan. I have known you since you were a child, and you always had his fire, his determination and his fierce loyalty to the tribe, even when the tribe rejected you. I once thought you shared his lack of wisdom, but now I believe that has changed. Perhaps it is your mother's gift, but no... I rather think it is something all your own, that you have hard-won through bitter experience.

"In time, we shall name you Han-Julan, and in later years they will call you a great ashkhan, greater even than your father was. I know that you are still young. You want to travel, and you have obligations to your friend Fen that you should fulfill. I know this, and I shall be here to watch over the tribe until your return." Sinnammu stepped back, and someone suddenly called out from the tribe behind her.

"Han-Julan!" There were a few smattered replies, and several of the Ashlanders raised their swords and bows as they shouted his name. Shani whipped her bow off from her back and plunged it into the air.

"Han-Julan!" she cried triumphantly, her voice carrying out over the dark plains. Then the members of the tribe came forward to speak to them, asking the details of their venture into Sanit, praising Julan for his bravery, apologizing for their years of exiling him. At some point, a group of hunters left the camp and returned with a freshly killed nix-hound. The firepit in the center of camp was lit, and Fen, Julan, and Shani were asked to sit before it with the rest of the tribe as they began to roast the nix-hound and pass around clay bowls of food. Night fell, and the rain subsided into a clear sky. The people around the fire dissolved into smaller groups, often centering around Julan. At some point, Fen was overwhelmed by the people pressing in on her, and she slid out from between them and walked to the edge of the dark camp, where the grass was dusted with frost and the air was cool. She glanced back and saw the silhouettes of the Ashlanders gathered around Julan, their outlines lit up by the cook-fire.

"Fen?" Fen turned away from the camp again and saw Mashti standing there, looking strange and out-of-place outside her yurt. "I heard the shouting from my yurt," Mashti explained. "I had hoped that the news I found here would be good." Fen saw that Mashti's eyes had filled with tears. "I would risk facing Ahmabi if it meant news of my son."

"Julan's fine," Fen told her quickly. "We're all fine. He returned Han-Sashael's bones to the tribe, and they named him ashkahn. They are celebrating now." Mashti managed a slight smile.

"So Julan believes me? That I was not to blame for his father's death?" She sighed and shook her head before Fen could answer. "It does not matter. I do not care if I live or die."

"Mother?" They turned. Julan's figure had appeared, framed by the fire behind them. He was clutching a mazte in one hand and looking from Fen to Mashti, clearly confused.

"You can kill me now," Mashti said, her voice breaking. "I no longer care."

"Mother, hush," Julan said, setting down the mazte and moving forward to embrace Mashti. "I know you had nothing to do with Han-Sashael's death. I spoke to his spirit."

"You – you _what_?"

"Everything is going to be fine." Gradually, Fen and Julan managed to explain what had transpired in Sanit to Mashti.

"I... this is too much," she whispered, sitting down faintly on a rock. "I can scarcely believe what you are telling me. No longer exiles? Ahmabi...dead? And Sashael... Oh, Sashael..." She buried her face in her hands. After a long moment, she looked up again. "Julan...I once gave you a destiny, a dream. Perhaps that was wrong of me. It was not your destiny to receive, as it was never mine to give. But you did not fail me...you learned to make your own fate. And you have done things I did not believe possible. You have never failed me, never…and... I never told you...how proud I am of you... and... and... how much I..." She dissolved into tears then, and Julan enveloped her in his arms. Deciding to leave them alone, Fen rejoined the camp, where Shani flounced cheerily up to her, shoving a bottle of flin into her hands.

"Where's Julan?" she asked brightly. Red patches were beginning to appear on her cheeks.

"With his mother," Fen said, gesturing, and Shani giggled for some reason.

"Come over here, Fen," she said, leading her back over to the fire. "I want you to meet my friend Dun-Il. You two would get along famously." Fen glanced back once at Julan and Mashti, folded in one another's arms, and smiled slightly as Shani pulled her back into the group.


	27. Chapter 27

Silence fell in the Urshilaku camp as Fen and Julan entered. The Ashlanders stared openly, stopping what they were doing to watch as Fen led the way to Nibani Maesa's yurt and ducked inside. The wise woman was sitting serenely before the fire, shifting a clay plate that held several bleached nix hound bones around on her lap. Her head was bent intently over the plate, and she only looked up when the flap lifted, causing a shaft of light to fall across the yurt. Julan let the flap fall closed and Nibani's penetrating gaze swept over them, her expression unreadable.

"You have returned from the Cavern of the Incarnate, Clanfriend Fen." She set the plate with the bones aside and stood up, moving around the firepit to stand before Fen. "And share with me, Clanfriend, what visions you beheld in the Cavern of the Incarnate." Wordlessly, Fen held up her left hand, showing Nibani the elegant white gold ring that glittered faintly there. Nibani took Fen's hand in her own firm, warm grasp and held the ring close to her face. For a long moment, the only sound was the crackling of her hearth.

"This," she said finally, in a steady voice, "is the ring of Lord Nerevar Indoril." She looked up at Fen, her wide eyes reflecting the fire and glittering in the dimness. "None may doubt you. You are the Nerevarine, the Incarnate, Nerevar Reborn. You must free the cursed false gods and restore peace to Morrowind." Nibani took Fen's other hand and stared deeply into her eyes. "Before you lies the Fourth Trial, and after that, the Fifth. You must be called Nerevarine by four Ashlander tribes, Hortator by three Great Houses. You must go now, and speak to Sul-Matuul of these things, for he is your friend and may well name you the Nerevarine of the Urshilaku without complaint." Nibani dropped Fen's hands. "Go."

They left her yurt and entered Sul-Matuul's, bowing low, then rising again. The ashkhan was sitting cross-legged before the fire, his hooded eyes gazing up at them, filled with interest. He held out his hand, and Fen and Julan sat beside him. He looked expectantly at Fen, and she held out her left hand to him. Sul-Matuul stared at Moon-and-Star for a long moment, then looked back up at Fen.

"You have passed the Third Trial. I have spoken with Nibani Maesa, and I know these Trials. You wish to be called Urshilaku Nerevarine. But first, would you hear the counsel of Sul-Matuul?"

"I would."

"Good. First, I would give you warning. When you are called Nerevarine, the word must spread, and many must hear. Your enemies will hear, and come seeking your blood. Second, I tell you, seek the counsel of Wise Woman Nibani Maesa, for you are an Outlander, and ignorant of the ways of our people. Nibani Maesa can tell you of the other tribes, of their ways, and of their ashkhans. If you do not know these things, you will make many mistakes, and waste precious time. That is my counsel. Now, if you wish to be named Urshilaku Nerevarine, we may speak of these things." Sul-Matuul reached for a pitcher and poured sujamma into three mugs, letting the froth rise to their rims. He handed one to Fen and one to Julan, who drained the mug almost at once. Fen took a small sip so as not to be rude and set the mug down.

"You wish to be called Nerevarine. I know you, and am disposed to do so. But first we must speak of need and duty. Before I name you Nerevarine, you must understand why a war leader is needed, so you may tell others. And before I name you Nerevarine, I must see that you know your duty.

"Know the words of the prophecies. The curse of Dagoth Ur and the Sixth House threatens our land. The False Gods lie, and offer false hope of protection. You bear the Moon-and-Star of Nerevar. Azura's hand is upon you. These are the proofs you must show to all people as Urshilaku Nerevarine. From the unmourned house have come forth the seven curses. The Sixth House is a great evil, and a great danger to all people. This is the need. You have seen this need. You have fought the Sixth House. You have known the curse of corprus. You have harrowed Kogoruhn, and seen the darkness that lies within. When you tell your story, others may be shown the proofs. You have learned the lies of the Tribunal and the false hope they offer of protection from Dagoth Ur. We have heard the priest's own words of the Apographa, and we know them to be true. We have heard the words of the Dissident Priests, and we know them to be true. The False Gods have broken their promises, and have taken up the tools of the Enemy. This is a great evil, and a great danger. You wear the Moon-and-Star of Nerevar. The legend of Moon-and-Star is known to all loremasters. No man but Nerevar may wear that ring and live. This is a true sign. This is a miracle, a blessing of Azura, and no man may deny it.

"You shall be Nerevarine of all the tribes, and Hortator of all the Great Houses. You shall eat the sin of the unmourned house, and free the false gods. You must defeat the Sixth House, and Dagoth Ur. You must free the Tribunal from their curse. This is the burden of prophecy. This shall be your duty as Urshilaku Nerevarine." Sul-Matuul stood. "Come," he said, and he lead them outside, where what appeared to be the entire tribe had assembled before the ashkahn's yurt. They stared at Fen, their drawn, ash-beaten faces tired and grim. Fen watched these people, so cruelly called savages by those that forced them from their homes for worshipping the old gods. And now they stared at her, their eyes glimmering with faint hope.

"Before my hearth and kin, and before the People of the Wastes, I name you Urshilaku Nerevarine, War Leader of the Urshilaku, and Protector of the People," Sul-Matuul said loudly, and he raised a thin necklace of twine strung with three smooth, white fangs. "In token of this, I give you the Teeth, which shall be a sign to all Dunmer, that you are the Nerevarine, and that the Urshilaku shall follow you, in all things, even unto death, until the Enemy is defeated, or until you are dead, or until you give this back into my hand." The assembled Urshilaku cheered then, and Fen glanced back at them and saw they had changed. Now, they looked positively alive with joy, as if Dagoth Ur had already been defeated. Sul-Matuul lowered the necklace over Fen's head and placed his hands firmly on her shoulders. He lowered his voice. "The Fourth Trial is to join the three Great Houses of Vvardenfell under one Hortator. You must be named Hortator in turn by House Redoran, House Hlaalu, and House Telvanni. I know little of the ways of the Great Houses." He lowered his hands. "Now go. Seek Nibani Maesa, for she will tell you more of what must be done to gain the trust of the Ashlanders and of the Great Houses."

"You won't see the Great Houses handing out priceless tribal heirlooms," Julan said proudly as Fen fingered the long, smooth fangs of the Teeth of the Urshilaku. "They must really trust you." The Urshilaku gazed at Fen with a new respect now, seeing the Teeth of the Urshilaku around her neck. As Fen and Julan crossed the camp, one man noticed the ring on her finger and shook her hand, his eyes welling with tears, then hurried away. Julan looked slightly perturbed as they entered Nibani's yurt again, but Fen marveled at their sudden and blind loyalty to her.

The wise woman looked slightly more composed as they came in. She invited them to sit, and for the next hour she gave Fen careful counsel, telling her all she knew of the Great Houses and the Ashlander tribes. The Zainab tribe of the southern Grazelands had a vain and hard-headed ashkhan. The Erabenimsun of the Ashlands were violent and quick to kill outsiders. The Hlaalu were liars and cheats. The Redoran were proud worshippers of the Tribunal. The ancient wizards of the Telvanni were shrouded in mystery and should have care taken around them.

"I understand that the Ashlanders must name me Nerevarine," Fen said when Nibani had finished. "But what exactly is a Hortator?"

"A Hortator is, essentially, a warlord," Nibani answered. "In times of great sorrow, a Hortator, named such by the three Great Houses of Vvardenfell, unites Morrowind through its differences and helps to restore the land. You must be named Hortator to complete the Fourth Trial. Now, go."

"Well," Julan said as they let the flap fall closed behind them. "Becoming the Ahemmusa Nerevarine will be easy, seeing as I'm ashkhan."

"You're not the ashkhan yet," Fen told him. "We should ask Sinnammu." Julan was put out, but they used their rings to teleport to the Ahemmusa camp anyway. Sinnammu, however, seemed to agree with Julan.

"Han-Julan is our leader, Fen," she told her. "If he will name you Nerevarine, the tribe will follow his wishes." Fen turned to Julan, who grinned.

"Let me think," he said slowly. "Do I _really _want you to be Nerevarine?"

"Come off it," Fen said, smacking the backside of his head sharply.

"Argh! Fine, fine, you're the Ahemmusa Nerevarine! Sheogorath…" Sinnammu smiled and opened a small chest on her table. She took out a round, polished red stone that encompassed a smaller blue stone painted with gold symbols.

"The Madstone of the Ahemmusa," Sinnammu said, cupping it in both hands and holding it out to Fen. "It is a sacred symbol of our tribe. May it be a sign to all Dunmer that you are the Nerevarine and that the Ahemmusa shall follow you into all things, even into death." Fen took the stone carefully, and Sinnammu bowed them out. The day was late, so Fen and Julan met Shani at the Varo Tradehouse and spent the remainder of the evening with her. By their fifth round of maztes, both Shani and Julan were daring one another to tap dance on top of the bar, so Fen excused herself and went upstairs to bed.

Lying in the hammock in her dark room, Fen raised her left hand to examine Moon-and-Star. It glowed very faintly, the gentle curve of the crescent moon catching the light just so. Fen lowered her hand and rested it across her stomach as there was a great crash from downstairs and the muffled sounds of Shani singing floated up to her. The idea of being the Nerevarine still hadn't struck Fen. She closed her eyes, imagining her first steps into Vvardenfell, wandering through the foggy, grim streets of Balmora, feeling awkward and alone. It felt like so much longer than six months ago. Years, at least.

Fen rolled over in the hammock to face the wall, folding her hands under her cheek so that Moon-and-Star glittered right before her nose. She wondered if Helseth would let her back into Mournhold now, if he knew that she was the Nerevarine. She wondered if she would even go back to Mournhold. They days since she had first placed that folded letter into Caius Cosades' hand had gone by in a blur, leaving her in a daze…Caius Cosades. Fen wondered, vaguely, how he was doing. She wondered if he had any idea what she was doing now, about to confront two Ashlander tribes and three Great Houses and ask to be called their leader. Would he be proud of her? And her father. Would Helseth be proud? Would he forget his hate for her for one moment, just to marvel at all that his daughter had accomplished? And her grandmother…her dear, wonderful grandmother. Fen's chest ached to think of Barenziah.

When Fen slept that night, her dreams were full of the maze-like halls of the Mournhold Palace, stretching on forever and never leading anywhere.

Shani said she would accompany them to the Zainab camp, which was a few hours' walk south of Vos, so they got up before sunrise the next morning and started over the dark plains. Fen didn't speak because she was tired – Shani and Julan didn't speak because of their hangovers.

They reached the Zainab camp by sunrise. There were only one or two haggard-looking Ashlanders about – a yawning girl leaning against a tree just outside the camp holding a wooden staff and lazily watching her guar herd and a man that was painting oil onto the outside of his yurt to insulate it against the cold. The girl herding guar looked up as they approached.

"You're Fen," she said at once, and Fen saw that the girl couldn't have been more than fifteen. "They're saying you're the Nerevarine."

"I am." The girl narrowed her eyes.

"Do you have proof?" Fen held out her hand, showing the girl Moon-and-Star. The girl looked up at Fen, her face suspicious.

"It is part of the story of Nerevar, the ring Moon-and-Star, that none may wear but Nerevar himself. You should talk to Ashkhan Kaushad. He is very curious about this outlander who claims to be the Nerevarine."

"Who are his gulakahns?" Fen asked.

"You don't need to speak to the gulakahns," the girl said dismissively. "Our ashkhan does not care for ceremony. If you are well-mannered, enter his yurt."

"Won't he be asleep?" Julan asked.

"The Zainab are not lazy like you city-folk," the girl said proudly. "We rise with the sun. See, our tribe is waking." Indeed, more Ashlanders had emerged from their yurts and were moving about the camp in a familiar-looking pattern, carrying furs and baskets and hides from place to place. Fen thanked the girl, who merely went back to watching her guar, and they entered the camp. Fen tried to ignore the way the Ashlanders stopped to stare as she passed.

Ashkhan Kaushad was a powerful-looking man, trim and muscular. He wore his dark hair caught up in a kind of circlet, and gold hoops studded his ears. When they entered, he was kneeling at a low table, using some kind of amber-colored sap to fletch racer plumes to a steel arrow. When the tent flap fell closed, he gazed at them all deeply, then stood up. His height was unnerving, his head nearly grazing the ceiling of his yurt.

"So." He went around the table and stood before Fen, gazing down on her. "You are Fen. The outlander who claims to fulfill the Nerevarine prophecies. You are welcome to our hospitality, outlander. But you must tell us... how can an outlander be the Nerevarine?" And so Fen explained all she knew to him, showed him Moon-and-Star, the Teeth of the Urshilaku, and the Madstone of the Ahemmusa.

"Ho, ho!" Kaushad laughed suddenly, turning and walking around to the table again. "Excuse me. Do not think me rude. But seriously. Do you believe this story yourself? I mean no offense, but you must admit, you are an outlander, and completely ignorant of our ways. How could you ever be our war leader? What sensible ashkhan would ever choose you to lead the tribes? Ho, ho." Still chuckling, Kaushad picked up the arrow and poked the racer plume into place, clearly expecting them to leave. Julan started to say something indignantly, but Fen elbowed him.

"Set me a task."

"Pardon?" Kaushad turned around.

"Set me a task. Something I can do to prove to you that I am the Nerevarine." Kaushad glared at her for a moment.

"Very well. A vampire named Calvario has taken refuge in nearby Nerano Ancestral Tomb. If you are as worthy as you say you are, it should be a small matter for you to dispose of this vampire. There. You have your task. Now perhaps you would leave me in peace for a bit?" Fen was about to leave, but Shani spoke first.

"Calvario is dead already, Ashkhan Kaushad. For I hunt with the Ahemmusa, and three weeks ago we entered a tomb to take shelter from a storm and purged everything from within." Noticing Kaushad's look, she added quickly, "Fen hunted with us that day. She is a Clanfriend of the Ahemmusa, and it was her arrow that ended the monster's life."

"So you killed the vampire Calvario?" Kaushad said, and Fen nodded. "Well. I will be happy to acknowledge you as Zainab Nerevarine. But..." he paused, then a great smile spread across his lips. "It is customary for one seeking an honor from the Ashkhan to offer the Ashkhan a generous gift as a mark of respect. Because you are an outlander, and do not know our customs, I will do you the great favor of naming the gift I wish to receive – a high-born Telvanni bride – a pretty one, plump, with big hips to bring me many sons."

"A – a Telvanni bride?"

"Where will you find a high-born Telvanni bride?" Kaushad went on, ignoring her. "That is simple. You should visit high-born Telvanni lords and inform them that Ashkhan Kaushad of the Lordly Zainab would do them the honor of making their daughter his bride. Surely many Telvanni lords would be honored to receive such an offer. Consider carefully the many daughters offered and choose for me the finest. Take counsel with my wise woman, Sonummu Zabamat. She knows my mind well in such matters." With that, he shooed them away, out into the camp again.

"What an _asshole_!" Julan exploded once they were outside. A woman with two children beside her glared at them and hurried her children away. "What an arrogant, full-of-himself bastard!"

"Quiet, Julan," Fen hissed. "You're talking about these people's ashkhan."

"We're never going to find a Telvanni that will marry an Ashlander," Shani said wearily.

"Who says?" Julan snapped, drawing himself up. "I would consider it an honor to marry an Ashlander chief. Just not that idiot."

"We should ask the wise woman," Fen said, passing them and heading towards the largest yurt. "Nibani told me that she is more sensible that her ashkhan."

The wise woman, Sonummu Zabamat, was just inside the door of her yurt, closing the lid of an urn with her arms full of saltrice. She recognized Fen and invited them to sit, and when she had served them tea and heard of Fen's predicament, she laughed without humour.

"Kaushad wants a Telvanni bride, eh? No high-born Telvanni would wed an Ashlander." Sonummu took a thoughtful sip of tea. "But I have a plan. Go to my friend, Savile Imayn, slavemistress of the Festival Slave Market in Tel Aruhn, and tell her you need a pretty Dunmer slave to pose as a Telvanni lady. Then Savile Imayn will tell you what clothes to buy, and will dress her like a high-born Telvanni. Then escort the pretty slave to Zainab camp and present her to Ashkhan Kaushad as a high-born Telvanni bride. He won't know the difference."

"Perfect," Fen said breathlessly. "Thank you."

"We're getting him a slave?" Julan said indignantly as they left. "Because no Telvanni would ever agree to marry an Ashlander?! Stuck up fools. I don't think we should be supporting the slave trade."

"Okay," Shani said scathingly. "Plan B. We dress _you _up as the Telvanni bride." Julan choked.

"Fine! We'll get a slave! I guess she'd be better off as an Ashkhan's bride than a slave anyway."

"Right," Fen said, unrolling her map. "Let's get going. If we leave now we can make it to Tel Aruhn before noon." They walked across the Grazelands for the rest of the day, then water-walked the short distance through Zafirbel Bay until they reached Tel Aruhn. It was a small Telvanni town, all the mushroom-grown houses centering around the large main tower, and it was warmer here, being closer to Red Mountain. The slave market was on the outskirts, beside a large building. Circular pods hung from a wooden railing, each one holding a slave on display, enclosed by sturdy-looking wooden bars that latched over the openings of the pods. Fen approached the woman standing under an awning near the pods, a Dunmer wearing a brazenly gold dress that was counting drakes from a lockbox. Thunder boomed overhead as Fen approached, and the woman looked up, surveying Fen critically.

"Savile Imayn?" The woman nodded, and Fen explained her situation while Julan muttered under his breath behind her. When Fen was finished, Savile broke into hysterical laughter. Julan's voiced raised, but before Fen had to do anything, Shani stamped on his foot, hard.

"You – you want a slave to pose as a high-born Telvanni?" Savile said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "So she can marry and Ashlander?"

"Yes," Fen said curtly. She was beginning to dislike the slave business almost as much as Julan.

"Oh, that Sonummu. Well, I do have the slave you want, Falura Llervu, a pretty Dunmer girl. But first you must get something to dress her in. Go to Tel Mora, to the clothier there, and get her a dress. Like this one," she added, showing Fen her own dress. "Something a Telvanni lady would wear. Pick up some shoes as well. And get a bottle of Telvanni bug musk. Bring them to me, and then we will discuss a price for her." Fen glanced at the pod hanging right beside Savile and saw it contained a young Dunmer woman, staring silently at the ground.

"Right," Fen said, turning to Julan and Shani. She handed them a few drakes. "I'll fly to Tel Mora and get everything. You two get out of the cold and meet me back here in an hour."

"Sure!" Shani said brightly, and they went off to the Tradehouse while Fen oriented herself toward Tel Mora with her map. It only took her about fifteen minutes to water-walk there, though she ended up moving through the sheeting rain that began as soon as she took to the sky. She managed to find a dress that she assumed would be up to Savile's standards and paid the full three hundred drakes for it, too tired to waste time haggling with the clothier. She wanted to have the Zainab's assurance of loyalty before the day was over. She picked up a bottle of Telvanni bug musk, a potent perfume, and flew the short trip back to Tel Aruhn as the rain subsided.

"Now, let me tell you my price," Savile said slyly as Fen landed again and showed her the dress. "For this superb specimen, skillfully coached to play her part in your little scheme, I am pleased to accept from you the modest sum of twelve hundred drakes. And I only offer you this special price out of my friendship for Sonummu Zabamat."

"Fine," Fen replied. "That's fine." She counted the gold out of her bag and handed it to Savile, who greedily tucked the drakes into her lockbox. Savile drew forth a key and unlocked the Dunmer woman's cage, and the wooden bars swung open.

"There you are," she said, chuckling, then went back to counting her drakes. Fen walked up the few stone stairs to the pod. Falura Llervu stood silent, staring at the ground.

"Falura?" Fen said softly.

"Yes, sera. Falura Llervu of Velothis Haven, daughter of Andrano Llervu, lord of Tel Llervu, pleased to make your acquaintance." Falura curtsied and gave Fen a tentative smile. "See? Savile Imayn has taught me well. I shall be a high-born Telvanni lady, and no one will know the difference. Just like a lady. I admit, I am a little anxious about marrying an Ashlander, even an Ashlander chief, but anything is better than being a slave, and I am very tough and smart, and determined to make the best of my chances." She smiled determinately.

"Here," Fen said, handing her the dress and the Telvanni bug musk.

"Oh, sera!" Falura exclaimed. "These clothes! They are divine! Such a perfume! Only the very rich can afford this! I shall do everything I can to please you and my new master...that is, my gracious lord and husband-to-be." Falura slipped into the dress and dabbed the bug musk on her wrists and under her jaw. Fen helped her pull her auburn hair into an elegant twist and secured it with an emerald-encrusted comb she had picked up. "Come!" Falura said when they had finished. "I am so excited, I cannot wait! Let us travel together to Zainab camp and meet this Zainab lord!" They found Shani and Julan just leaving the Tradehouse, thankfully, not drunk. When Julan saw Falura, his eyes seemed to widen.

"That's our Telvanni bride?" he whispered to Fen.

"Yes," she muttered back, taking out her map. "Falura Llervu."

"I'll talk to her, Fen," Julan assured her, though Fen had shown no sign of anxiety about taking Falura to Kaushad. "I'll tell her about how it's really all right to live in an Ashlander camp." With that, Julan fell behind and into step with Falura, while Fen and Shani led the way. There was no quick way to get to the Zainab camp from Tel Aruhn, so they were just going to cross the Zafirbel Bay, then walk to the camp from there.

"Julan's found himself a girlfriend," Shani giggled, glancing back at Julan and Falura. She looked completely enraptured with whatever he was saying. Shani dissolved into giggles again. "Just like him, too."

"As long as they don't fall in love and run off together," Fen said. "I just want to get her to Kaushad and finish this." Light was fading quickly as they reached the water. Fen, Julan, and Shani could all water-walk, but Falura could not. Fen gave Falura a potion that would give her the ability for two minutes before Julan could offer to carry her.

They reached land again and started the walk through the Grazelands to the Zainab camp. Fen guessed it would take them about two hours. She and Shani talked a little, and at some point Julan jogged up to talk to them.

"Falura's amazing!" he said excitedly. "The things she's endured would break anyone, but she's so brave! She's determined to get everything she can out of life, whatever happens, even if it means becoming the Telvanni bride of an Ashlander she's never met."

"Real charmer, leaving her to walk by herself while we gossip," Shani said wryly, pinching Julan's arm, and she fell back to talk to Falura.

"She _is _amazing," Julan said defensively to Fen, rubbing his arm. "I fell bad for her, having to marry that swollen-headed Kaushad."

"Or are you jealous?" Fen asked slyly. Julan flushed.

"No – no! I just – she just – nevermind." Fen pushed him playfully. At some point, the group shifted again and Falura walked beside Fen, her eyes trained on the ground.

"Your friend Julan has been talking to me," she said. "And I am not so scared to be marrying an Ashlander anymore. It will be better than that slave pod, in any case." Falura glanced at Fen. "He also told me that you are the Nerevarine, sera." Fen showed Falura Moon-and-Star, glittering faintly on her finger. "How can this be?" Falura whispered. "An outlander, the Nerevarine? But…" Falura shook her head, smiling. "Such wonders in this world. Yesterday I was a slave in Tel Aruhn. Now I am on my way to marry an Ashlander chief."

"Yes. And we're nearly there." Fen pointed, and they saw the Zainab camp just ahead, nestled between two hills. Falura took a deep breath.

As they entered the camp, the Ashlanders stared openly again, this time more at Falura in her dazzling gold dress than at Fen.

"Julan, perhaps you and Shani should stay here," Fen said when they were outside the Ashkhan's yurt. "It'll be a bit of a squeeze with all of us."

"No," Falura said suddenly. They all looked at her, and she blushed. "I'm sorry – I mean…I want all my friends to come with me." She blushed even more fiercely. "You three are the only people who have ever been kind to me." Fen thought she saw Julan and Falura sneak a glance at one another before they went in.

"This is my new bride?" Kaushad asked promptly as they entered. He walked around Falura in a slow circle, examining her up and down. "I am very pleased with your gift, Fen...though she is not so generous in the hips as I would like. I promise to make her a happy bride, and to do her honor as a high-born Telvanni lady. And, as I have said, I will now name you Zainab Nerevarine, War Leader of the Zainab, and Protector of the People." He took a spiky blue amulet with a racer plume drilled into it from around his neck and held it out to Fen. "I must also give you the Zainab Thong, an enchanted heirloom of the tribe, which shall be a sign to all Dunmer that the Zainab have named you Nerevarine." Falura asked a moment to speak to them before they left, and Kaushad agreed.

"Thank you, sera," Falura told Fen, hugging her tightly when they stood outside Kaushad's yurt. "You have given me more than I could ever repay. He is very distinguished-looking, isn't he? A bit severe, perhaps, but the lines on his face, there, show that he likes to smile. Oh, sera. I think I will be very happy." She hugged Fen again, then did the same with Shani, and with Julan, who blushed fiercely when she gave him a kiss on the cheek before slipping inside the yurt again.

"Three down, one to go," Shani said as Fen slipped the Thong over her head, where it rested with the Teeth of the Urshilaku. "Then all the Great House councilors." Fen frowned.

"I have a feeling they will be harder to convince."


	28. Chapter 28

Though Fen was comforted by the fact that three Ashlander tribes put their wholehearted trust in her, apprehension still hung around her like a storm cloud. She knew they believed she could do it, and she knew Julan and Shani shared the same sentiment – but _she _was the one that wasn't sure. Every time she glanced down and saw Moon-and-Star glimmering on her finger, she felt a shudder of unease in the pit of her stomach at the thought of what she would eventually have to do.

They packed up the tent early the next morning and began the long walk south through the Grazelands. She let Julan and Shani fill the silence with their chatter as she aimlessly watched the cloud-scudded blue sky. There was a faint breeze, and the tall grasses waved serenely over the hard-packed dirt path. Occasionally they would pass a merchant and pack guar or another small group of travelers, but for the most part they seemed quite alone under the vast sky.

They stopped for lunch as the sun reached its zenith, white and glaring at the top of the sky. Fen found a loaf of bread in her bag and tossed it to Julan, sitting down on a flat rock and pulling her map out from her bag. She carefully recalled the curves and twists of the road and moved her quill along the map, shifting it to get a better angle.

"So after we get the Erabeninsum," Julan was saying as he struggled to tear the bread apart.

"Julan, it's Erabe_nim_sun, not Erabe_nin_sum," Shani corrected him, reaching over and grabbing the bread. She tore it easily into thirds and held one out to Fen. "And you can't just assume that they're going to be all for Fen being the Nerevarine. Don't you remember that time the Zainab hunters ran into our camp yelling that the Erabenimsun were attacking their camp?"

"That doesn't mean anything," Julan said dismissively, waving his chunk of bread at Shani before tearing off a bite. He sat down on a splintered log beside the path. "Tha Erienium'll dove Fan."

"What_?_" Shani asked, turning around to stare at him. He swallowed. "The Erabeninsum will love Fen. Everybody does."

"Erabe_nim_sun, Julan!" Shani exclaimed, throwing her bread at him. It hit him in the head and rolled onto his lap. She sat down on the rock and peered over Fen's shoulder at the map.

"How close are we, Fen?" Julan asked, shoving Shani's bread into his mouth.

"I'd say another three hours," Fen said distractedly, adding a few arcs alongside the trail on her map to represent the hills as Shani smacked Julan upside the head.

"You're pretty good at that," she remarked after a pause. "The map, I mean." Fen decided against telling her that that was because she had been made to sketch maps of Morrowind and Tamriel from memory since the age of twelve and remained silent.

"_Anyway_," Julan said, glowering at Shani and massaging the back of his head. "After we get the Erabe_nim_sun, we have the Fourth Trial down."

"The Fifth," Fen said. "The Fourth Trial is the Great Houses, which is what I'm worried about." Fen finished drawing the path and folded the map, slipping it back into her bag.

"Why?" Shani asked.

"Because the Ashlanders have been waiting for the Nerevarine for ages, but the Great Houses are faithful to the Tribunal." Fen frowned. "Especially the Redoran, which is the House I'm planning on starting with. And if I mess up with just one councilor, I'm done for."

"Why not go to another House first, then?" Julan suggested, picking at something in the bottom of his boot. "Maybe the Redoran will be more receptive then."

"Nibani suggested I start with the Redoran," Fen said firmly. "The Hlaalu are thieves and liars, and the Telvanni are thousand-year-old wizards. Redoran's going to be my best bet, I'm afraid." Fen glanced up at the sun. "Let's keep going," she muttered, and they stood and continued on their way, soon leaving the comfort of the sun-streaked grasses and moving into the Ashlands to the south. This region still gave Fen the same uneasiness it had when she had first come to Vvardenfell. The sloping mountains that blew ash off their tops when the wind came, the cliffracers gliding silently between the foyadas, the mournful, echoing moan of wild silt striders. Everything about the Ashlands put her on edge.

After a few hours of walking through the nearly deserted foyada, the gray skies began to churn with a familiar dusty red and the wind started to pick up, sending scribs scuttling into their burrows and cliff racers flying anxiously back to the nests they built in the caverns of the mountains, screeching warnings to one another.

"Shouldn't we stop?" Shani said, glancing at the sky nervously. "If there's going to be an ashstorm, we ought to set up the tent before it hits."

"We're nearly there," Fen assured them, picking up her pace slightly. "I'm sure we'll beat the storm." Fen, to her relief, was correct, and they arrived at the Erabenimsun camp just as ash began to choke the air. The camp was cleverly erected in a deep bowl-like valley so that the walls of the ridge around them shielded the cluster of yurts from the ashstorm. As they came into the yurts, the Ashlanders going about their business glared at them, stepped back when they approached, and whispered behind their hands.

"Nibani said we should speak to the wise woman before the ashkhan," Fen muttered, leading the way to the largest yurt. A man wearing a chitin helmet blocked them.

"You outlanders have no business here," he snarled. "Get out before we run you through and feed you to the cliffracers."

"We _do _have business here," Fen said firmly. The man glared at her through the eyepiece of his helmet, his eyes hard and cold.

"You are Fen. The one that calls herself the Nerevarine. The outlander," he spat.

"We have business," Fen repeated. "Move away."

"Take them to Ulath-Pal!" someone shouted, and there was a murmur of agreement.

"Move away," Fen said again, her voice rising. "We need to speak with the wise woman."

"Outlanders have no place here!" the man in the helmet shouted, and he drew a lethal-looking jinkblade from his belt. Fen was ready to fight back when the tent flap behind the man swished open, revealing a severe-looking Dunmer woman with her dark hair knotted behind her head and her black lips turned down.

"Tinti," she barked in a sharp, loud voice. The man in the helmet faltered. "Lower your weapon," the wise woman said. "These three are under my protection."

"Lover of outlanders," Tinti hissed under his breath, but he sheathed his blade anyway.

"Come," the woman said curtly, holding back the tent flap but not looking at them. Fen, Julan, and Shani ducked into her yurt.

"You have no right," they heard Tinti saying. "They are trespassers."

"You have no right to slay them," the woman replied. "Now leave, or I will speak to Ulath-Pal." The flap fluttered and the woman appeared. Her yurt was spacious and dim, hung with guar skins and lined with bedrolls. "Sit," she said, and they sat, cross-legged, before the fire burning between the centerbeams. "So," the wise woman said, surveying Fen. "You are the outlander that says you are the Nerevarine."

"Yes." Fen showed her Moon-and-Star, the Teeth of the Urshilaku, the Madstone of the Ahemmusa, the Thong of the Zainab. "And to complete the Fifth Trial of the Nerevarine, I must be named such by your tribe."

"Never. Not while Ashkhan Ulath-Pal and his war-loving Erabenimsun live," she replied at once. "They all hate Outlanders, and are proud and haughty, and will never suffer an Outlander to rule them. If you would be Nerevarine of the Erabenimsun, you must kill Ulath-Pal and his supporters, the gulakahns Ahaz, Ranabi, and Ashu-Ahhe."

"But –" Fen started.

"Do not interrupt me," the wise woman said sharply, and Fen fell silent. "Then you must help me make peace-loving Erabenimsun Gulakahn Han-Ammu our ashkhan. Ashkhan Han-Ammu could then name you Nerevarine Erabenimsun.

"But before anything else can be done, you must first eliminate Ulath-Pal and his supporters. Then you should come speak with me, and we will discuss further how you might be named Erabenimsun Nerevarine. For I am Manirai, and I can give you counsel on how this might be done." Fen could sense Julan and Shani staring at Manirai incredulously. To kill an Ashlander chief and his gulakahns was not only an act of sacrilege to the Ashlanders, but would undoubtedly be difficult as well.

"Tell me about Ulath-Pal," Fen said.

"Ulath-Pal is always in his yurt, protected by his bodyguard, Gulakahn Ahaz. I am just a weak woman, and I am sure you would know best, but I would kill Ahaz first, the weaker of the two, and if I had secret magicks and powers, I would use them to preserve me while I defend against two enemies at once."

"Thank you," Fen said, and they stood and left the yurt.

"She wants us to kill a crazy ashkahn and all his mates!" Julan said incredulously as they left the yurt. Shani stamped, hard, on Julan's foot.

"Shut up, you idiot!" she hissed. Tinti was sitting outside a yurt, watching them as he sharpened his jinkblade with a stone.

"Right," Fen whispered, pulling Julan and Shani under the awning that marked the tents of the leaders of the tribe. "You two wait here."

"What?" Julan and Shani said together.

"I'll be casting spells," Fen explained quickly. "And it's a tight space, and I don't want either of you to get caught in the crossfire."

"We're coming in with you, Fen," Shani said gravely, and Julan nodded. Their faces were set. Fen knew there would be no convincing them otherwise. They stepped bravely into the yurt behind her, and Ulath-Pal and Ahaz turned to look at them from where they had been speaking near the fire. Ulath-Pal was sharp-faced, with dark, menacing eyes and a carefully trimmed beard around his dark lips. His arms outside his chitin cuirass were bare, and Fen noticed that they were thick with ropes of muscle. Ahaz didn't look nearly as intimidating, but he still scowled at them, showing his broken teeth.

"What the hell do you want?" Ulath-Pal growled, rising slowly and curling a hand around the hilt of his blade. Ahaz merely gave a gravely chuckle – he evidently did not think an unarmored Dunmer woman and her two shabby Ashlander companions would be much of a threat.

"My name is Fen," she said bravely. "And I have come concerning the matter of the Nerevarine prophecies."

"Well," Ulath-Pal said lowly. "This presents a problem that is easy to solve." With that, he drew his blade from his belt and stepped easily across the yurt towards Fen. Fen flung her arm out, keeping Julan from leaping at Ulath-Pal, and allowed the ashkhan to strike a shallow cut across her cheek so that she could not be blamed for his murder. She had managed to cast a weak shield spell so that the blade did not do her any serious harm, but she still felt the painful stinging in her cheek and blood starting to trickle down the curve of her jaw. Fen realized Shani had moved out of the way and was sparring with Ahaz, leaving her and Julan to fight Ulath-Pal.

Fen had planned to use a spell of God's Fire to be rid of both the ashkhan and his guard, but it was out-of-the-question with Julan and Shani in the yurt as well. It had only worked on Ahmabi because they had both been behind her and therefore out of range of the blast. So Fen summoned a frost atronach to aid them and stood back, letting Julan and the enormous atronach, whose head grazed the ceiling of the yurt, take on Ulath-Pal. She instead moved to help Shani with Ahaz, taking out the Staff of Magus and brought it down on Ahaz's head, the combination of the impact and the drain health spell killing him.

They turned to Julan and Ulath-Pal, who were still dueling fiercely with the help of the atronach. There wasn't much room for her and Shani to get in and help, so they just stood back, Fen ready to summon another daedra if need be.

But it was unnecessary, for Julan gave a triumphant cry as he found a chink in Ulath-Pal's armor and put Han-Sashael's tanto straight through the ashkahn's chest. Ulath-Pal sank to his knees, his eyes hard and glassy as stared at Julan, who stepped back. The ashkhan fell curled to the floor at the feet of the frost atronach, who disappeared after a few seconds.

"That was incredible, Julan," Shani said quietly. Julan didn't answer, but wiped Han-Sashael's tanto on Ulath-Pal's pants and put it away.

"Come on," Fen said, lifting the tent flap and touching her cheek tenderly. There was no point in wasting a potion on a small scratch. "Let's take care of Ranabi and Ashu-Ashe. I don't think we'll be wanting to spend the night here." The other two gulakahns did not pose nearly as much of a threat as Ulath-Pal had, and were dispatched more easily.

"You know, Julan," Fen said as they crossed to the last gulakahn's yurt. "I think we can safely say you don't need me as a trainer anymore."

Han-Ammu was sitting with his back to the entrance, stitching up a hole in the shirt that he had in his lap.

"Gulakahn Han-Ammu?" Fen said, stepping inside. Han-Ammu jumped, then clenched his fists, avoiding their gaze.

"I know it's women's work, Ranabi, just leave me be. You've bothered me enough today."

"Ranabi's dead," Julan said bluntly, and Han-Ammu turned. His pained expression changed into bewilderment.

"Who…?"

"My name is Fen," she offered, sitting down beside him.

"You're the outlander," he said at once. "The outlander that's saying you're the Nerevarine." Wordlessly, Fen held out her hand, showing him Moon-and-Star.

"Gods," Han-Ammu breathed, his hands fluttering around Fen's as if he was afraid to touch the ring. "This is a thing of legend."

"Do you still doubt that I am the Nerevarine?" Fen asked, and Han-Ammu shook his head quickly. "Then you must help me."

"I don't care what Manirai says," Han-Ammu replied at once. "I'm not interested. I don't want to be ashkhan. I'm weak and stupid and the Erabenimsun don't like me anyway. I would just make a fool of myself."

"Here," Julan said from behind Fen, tossing a long, dark green robe at Han-Ammu. He caught it, glanced at Julan suspiciously, then shook it out and held it up.

"Yes, I recognize this," he said quietly. "It is the robe of Erur-Dan the wise. It was handed down to Ranabi through his family."

"Julan!" Fen exclaimed, turning to look at him sharply. "You just took that off his body?"

"Well it's not like he was going to use it!" Julan replied defensively.

"I'm sorry," Han-Ammu said, folding up the robe and holding it out to Fen. "I can't be ashkhan. Not even with this." Fen took the robe, folding it over her arm.

"It's fine," she said, and Shani glanced at her suddenly.

"What?" Julan said, appalled. Han-Ammu looked puzzled.

"You aren't – you aren't going to even try?"

"We did," Fen said simply. "But it seems you are adamant in your desire not to be ashkhan." Fen stood. "But – might I just say, Gulakahn, before we take our leave, that I understand completely."

"You – you do?" Han-Ammu blinked.

"Of course," Fen said warmly. "You don't want to be embarrassed. It makes perfect sense. Of course, the path of the Nerevarine has been broken, for without the Erabenimsun's blessing, I can never fulfill the Fourth Trial, and Morrowind will succumb to the Blight and Dagoth Ur's monsters. It will spread across the land, and no one will be spared from Dagoth Ur's terror. Morrowind will become a diseased wasteland, and everyone in it now will die." Fen smiled brightly. "But if you'd be too embarrassed, I understand completely. Thank you for your hospitality." Fen turned and started to lift up the tent flap.

"Wait!" Han-Ammu called nervously. Fen looked back at him. "Maybe – maybe I can be ashkhan."

"Are you sure?" Fen asked. "Because I wouldn't want you to humiliate yourself."

"I'm sure!" Han-Ammu said quickly. "Um – yes – I'm quite sure."

"Then stop blubbering," Julan said briskly, grabbing the robe from Fen and thrusting it at Han-Ammu. The Dunmer caught the robe and held it up for a moment, surveying it in silence. Then he slipped it over his head and put his arms through the sleeves, letting the green fabric rest on his shoulders.

"Thank you," Han-Ammu said quietly. "Your lesson is clear. Now, with Ulath-Pal dead, I hold the fate of the tribe in my hands, and I must accept that responsibility. Thank you for your lesson. I shall be Ashkhan of the Erabenimsun. And I shall name you Nerevarine." He went to a chest in the back of his yurt and opened it, taking out a wide leather belt with a silver clasp. "I shall do my best to amend the dark reputation of the Erabenimsun. And as my first action as chief, I now name you, Fen, Erabenimsun Nerevarine, Champion of the Erabenimsun, and Protector of the People." He held the belt out to Fen, and she took it, feeling its energy rush down her spine.

"Thank you," Fen said quietly, carefully tucking the belt away. "You will be a great ashkahn, Han-Ammu."

It had grown late since they arrived at the Erabenimsun camp and the ashstorm was still raging fiercely outside the protective bowl of the cluster of yurts. Not wanting to spend too long in a camp where they had just slain most of the leaders, they prepared to teleport back to Ald'ruhn.

"Here, Shani," Fen said, holding out her hand. "You can teleport with me."

"Actually…" Shani said slowly, wringing her hands. "I think I'm going to go back to the Ahemmusa camp for a while. Traveling with you two has been great and all, but…I'm no warrior. I need some time to convalesce. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," she replied. "Just let me know anytime you want to tag along again, all right?"

"Sure," Shani replied, breaking into a smile. "I'll see you two later than. Don't get yourself killed." She flashed them a cheery grin, then cast recall and disappeared.

Fen and Julan teleported out of the fierce winds and found themselves in the warm, relaxed quiet of the Ald Skar Inn.

"Gods, I'm tired," Julan yawned, pulling off his cuirass and dropping it on a table. "I'm sleeping in tomorrow."

"Not if you want to come with me, you aren't," Fen replied, counting out money for two rooms. "If we want to get the support of all of the Redoran councilors in one day, we're going to have to start early." Julan looked cross, but said nothing as the publican passed him a room key. Fen left him a few septims for something to eat, then went straight to her room to peel off her ashen robes and leave them in a dusty pile on the floor. She extinguished the candles and sat down on the edge of her bed, running her finger along the curve of Moon-and-Star.

It had become so easy for her to kill. To end the life of another Mer. She remembered the first time she had done it, when she had been attacked by the Dark Brotherhood assassin on her way to Maar Gan. How it had shaken her so badly, how she had barely been able to sleep.

Fen lay back on the bed, crossing her hands over her abdomen and staring up at the red-and-white tiled ceiling. Surely it was her job to kill. It was her destiny. Something that couldn't be avoided.

"But why _me_?" Fen whispered to herself. "Why was _I _chosen for this?" It could have been someone like Julan, who had been trailed from birth to be a warrior. Or someone like her grandmother, who seemed to understand everything about the world they lived in. But something had happened and Fen had been set on this course. She lifted her hand to stare at Moon-and-Star.

Something.


	29. Chapter 29

Though Fen was comforted by the fact that three Ashlander tribes put their wholehearted trust in her, apprehension still hung around her like a storm cloud. She knew they believed she could do it, and she knew Julan and Shani shared the same sentiment – but _she _was the one that wasn't sure. Every time she glanced down and saw Moon-and-Star glimmering on her finger, she felt a shudder of unease in the pit of her stomach at the thought of what she would eventually have to do.

They packed up the tent early the next morning and began the long walk south through the Grazelands. She let Julan and Shani fill the silence with their chatter as she aimlessly watched the cloud-scudded blue sky. There was a faint breeze, and the tall grasses waved serenely over the hard-packed dirt path. Occasionally they would pass a merchant and pack guar or another small group of travelers, but for the most part they seemed quite alone under the vast sky.

They stopped for lunch as the sun reached its zenith, white and glaring at the top of the sky. Fen found a loaf of bread in her bag and tossed it to Julan, sitting down on a flat rock and pulling her map out from her bag. She carefully recalled the curves and twists of the road and moved her quill along the map, shifting it to get a better angle.

"So after we get the Erabeninsum," Julan was saying as he struggled to tear the bread apart.

"Julan, it's Erabe_nim_sun, not Erabe_nin_sum," Shani corrected him, reaching over and grabbing the bread. She tore it easily into thirds and held one out to Fen. "And you can't just assume that they're going to be all for Fen being the Nerevarine. Don't you remember that time the Zainab hunters ran into our camp yelling that the Erabenimsun were attacking their camp?"

"That doesn't mean anything," Julan said dismissively, waving his chunk of bread at Shani before tearing off a bite. He sat down on a splintered log beside the path. "Tha Erienium'll dove Fan."

"What_?_" Shani asked, turning around to stare at him. He swallowed. "The Erabeninsum will love Fen. Everybody does."

"Erabe_nim_sun, Julan!" Shani exclaimed, throwing her bread at him. It hit him in the head and rolled onto his lap. She sat down on the rock and peered over Fen's shoulder at the map.

"How close are we, Fen?" Julan asked, shoving Shani's bread into his mouth.

"I'd say another three hours," Fen said distractedly, adding a few arcs alongside the trail on her map to represent the hills as Shani smacked Julan upside the head.

"You're pretty good at that," she remarked after a pause. "The map, I mean." Fen decided against telling her that that was because she had been made to sketch maps of Morrowind and Tamriel from memory since the age of twelve and remained silent.

"_Anyway_," Julan said, glowering at Shani and massaging the back of his head. "After we get the Erabe_nim_sun, we have the Fourth Trial down."

"The Fifth," Fen said. "The Fourth Trial is the Great Houses, which is what I'm worried about." Fen finished drawing the path and folded the map, slipping it back into her bag.

"Why?" Shani asked.

"Because the Ashlanders have been waiting for the Nerevarine for ages, but the Great Houses are faithful to the Tribunal." Fen frowned. "Especially the Redoran, which is the House I'm planning on starting with. And if I mess up with just one councilor, I'm done for."

"Why not go to another House first, then?" Julan suggested, picking at something in the bottom of his boot. "Maybe the Redoran will be more receptive then."

"Nibani suggested I start with the Redoran," Fen said firmly. "The Hlaalu are thieves and liars, and the Telvanni are thousand-year-old wizards. Redoran's going to be my best bet, I'm afraid." Fen glanced up at the sun. "Let's keep going," she muttered, and they stood and continued on their way, soon leaving the comfort of the sun-streaked grasses and moving into the Ashlands to the south. This region still gave Fen the same uneasiness it had when she had first come to Vvardenfell. The sloping mountains that blew ash off their tops when the wind came, the cliffracers gliding silently between the foyadas, the mournful, echoing moan of wild silt striders. Everything about the Ashlands put her on edge.

After a few hours of walking through the nearly deserted foyada, the gray skies began to churn with a familiar dusty red and the wind started to pick up, sending scribs scuttling into their burrows and cliff racers flying anxiously back to the nests they built in the caverns of the mountains, screeching warnings to one another.

"Shouldn't we stop?" Shani said, glancing at the sky nervously. "If there's going to be an ashstorm, we ought to set up the tent before it hits."

"We're nearly there," Fen assured them, picking up her pace slightly. "I'm sure we'll beat the storm." Fen, to her relief, was correct, and they arrived at the Erabenimsun camp just as ash began to choke the air. The camp was cleverly erected in a deep bowl-like valley so that the walls of the ridge around them shielded the cluster of yurts from the ashstorm. As they came into the yurts, the Ashlanders going about their business glared at them, stepped back when they approached, and whispered behind their hands.

"Nibani said we should speak to the wise woman before the ashkhan," Fen muttered, leading the way to the largest yurt. A man wearing a chitin helmet blocked them.

"You outlanders have no business here," he snarled. "Get out before we run you through and feed you to the cliffracers."

"We _do _have business here," Fen said firmly. The man glared at her through the eyepiece of his helmet, his eyes hard and cold.

"You are Fen. The one that calls herself the Nerevarine. The outlander," he spat.

"We have business," Fen repeated. "Move away."

"Take them to Ulath-Pal!" someone shouted, and there was a murmur of agreement.

"Move away," Fen said again, her voice rising. "We need to speak with the wise woman."

"Outlanders have no place here!" the man in the helmet shouted, and he drew a lethal-looking jinkblade from his belt. Fen was ready to fight back when the tent flap behind the man swished open, revealing a severe-looking Dunmer woman with her dark hair knotted behind her head and her black lips turned down.

"Tinti," she barked in a sharp, loud voice. The man in the helmet faltered. "Lower your weapon," the wise woman said. "These three are under my protection."

"Lover of outlanders," Tinti hissed under his breath, but he sheathed his blade anyway.

"Come," the woman said curtly, holding back the tent flap but not looking at them. Fen, Julan, and Shani ducked into her yurt.

"You have no right," they heard Tinti saying. "They are trespassers."

"You have no right to slay them," the woman replied. "Now leave, or I will speak to Ulath-Pal." The flap fluttered and the woman appeared. Her yurt was spacious and dim, hung with guar skins and lined with bedrolls. "Sit," she said, and they sat, cross-legged, before the fire burning between the centerbeams. "So," the wise woman said, surveying Fen. "You are the outlander that says you are the Nerevarine."

"Yes." Fen showed her Moon-and-Star, the Teeth of the Urshilaku, the Madstone of the Ahemmusa, the Thong of the Zainab. "And to complete the Fifth Trial of the Nerevarine, I must be named such by your tribe."

"Never. Not while Ashkhan Ulath-Pal and his war-loving Erabenimsun live," she replied at once. "They all hate Outlanders, and are proud and haughty, and will never suffer an Outlander to rule them. If you would be Nerevarine of the Erabenimsun, you must kill Ulath-Pal and his supporters, the gulakahns Ahaz, Ranabi, and Ashu-Ahhe."

"But –" Fen started.

"Do not interrupt me," the wise woman said sharply, and Fen fell silent. "Then you must help me make peace-loving Erabenimsun Gulakahn Han-Ammu our ashkhan. Ashkhan Han-Ammu could then name you Nerevarine Erabenimsun.

"But before anything else can be done, you must first eliminate Ulath-Pal and his supporters. Then you should come speak with me, and we will discuss further how you might be named Erabenimsun Nerevarine. For I am Manirai, and I can give you counsel on how this might be done." Fen could sense Julan and Shani staring at Manirai incredulously. To kill an Ashlander chief and his gulakahns was not only an act of sacrilege to the Ashlanders, but would undoubtedly be difficult as well.

"Tell me about Ulath-Pal," Fen said.

"Ulath-Pal is always in his yurt, protected by his bodyguard, Gulakahn Ahaz. I am just a weak woman, and I am sure you would know best, but I would kill Ahaz first, the weaker of the two, and if I had secret magicks and powers, I would use them to preserve me while I defend against two enemies at once."

"Thank you," Fen said, and they stood and left the yurt.

"She wants us to kill a crazy ashkahn and all his mates!" Julan said incredulously as they left the yurt. Shani stamped, hard, on Julan's foot.

"Shut up, you idiot!" she hissed. Tinti was sitting outside a yurt, watching them as he sharpened his jinkblade with a stone.

"Right," Fen whispered, pulling Julan and Shani under the awning that marked the tents of the leaders of the tribe. "You two wait here."

"What?" Julan and Shani said together.

"I'll be casting spells," Fen explained quickly. "And it's a tight space, and I don't want either of you to get caught in the crossfire."

"We're coming in with you, Fen," Shani said gravely, and Julan nodded. Their faces were set. Fen knew there would be no convincing them otherwise. They stepped bravely into the yurt behind her, and Ulath-Pal and Ahaz turned to look at them from where they had been speaking near the fire. Ulath-Pal was sharp-faced, with dark, menacing eyes and a carefully trimmed beard around his dark lips. His arms outside his chitin cuirass were bare, and Fen noticed that they were thick with ropes of muscle. Ahaz didn't look nearly as intimidating, but he still scowled at them, showing his broken teeth.

"What the hell do you want?" Ulath-Pal growled, rising slowly and curling a hand around the hilt of his blade. Ahaz merely gave a gravely chuckle – he evidently did not think an unarmored Dunmer woman and her two shabby Ashlander companions would be much of a threat.

"My name is Fen," she said bravely. "And I have come concerning the matter of the Nerevarine prophecies."

"Well," Ulath-Pal said lowly. "This presents a problem that is easy to solve." With that, he drew his blade from his belt and stepped easily across the yurt towards Fen. Fen flung her arm out, keeping Julan from leaping at Ulath-Pal, and allowed the ashkhan to strike a shallow cut across her cheek so that she could not be blamed for his murder. She had managed to cast a weak shield spell so that the blade did not do her any serious harm, but she still felt the painful stinging in her cheek and blood starting to trickle down the curve of her jaw. Fen realized Shani had moved out of the way and was sparring with Ahaz, leaving her and Julan to fight Ulath-Pal.

Fen had planned to use a spell of God's Fire to be rid of both the ashkhan and his guard, but it was out-of-the-question with Julan and Shani in the yurt as well. It had only worked on Ahmabi because they had both been behind her and therefore out of range of the blast. So Fen summoned a frost atronach to aid them and stood back, letting Julan and the enormous atronach, whose head grazed the ceiling of the yurt, take on Ulath-Pal. She instead moved to help Shani with Ahaz, taking out the Staff of Magus and brought it down on Ahaz's head, the combination of the impact and the drain health spell killing him.

They turned to Julan and Ulath-Pal, who were still dueling fiercely with the help of the atronach. There wasn't much room for her and Shani to get in and help, so they just stood back, Fen ready to summon another daedra if need be.

But it was unnecessary, for Julan gave a triumphant cry as he found a chink in Ulath-Pal's armor and put Han-Sashael's tanto straight through the ashkahn's chest. Ulath-Pal sank to his knees, his eyes hard and glassy as stared at Julan, who stepped back. The ashkhan fell curled to the floor at the feet of the frost atronach, who disappeared after a few seconds.

"That was incredible, Julan," Shani said quietly. Julan didn't answer, but wiped Han-Sashael's tanto on Ulath-Pal's pants and put it away.

"Come on," Fen said, lifting the tent flap and touching her cheek tenderly. There was no point in wasting a potion on a small scratch. "Let's take care of Ranabi and Ashu-Ashe. I don't think we'll be wanting to spend the night here." The other two gulakahns did not pose nearly as much of a threat as Ulath-Pal had, and were dispatched more easily.

"You know, Julan," Fen said as they crossed to the last gulakahn's yurt. "I think we can safely say you don't need me as a trainer anymore."

Han-Ammu was sitting with his back to the entrance, stitching up a hole in the shirt that he had in his lap.

"Gulakahn Han-Ammu?" Fen said, stepping inside. Han-Ammu jumped, then clenched his fists, avoiding their gaze.

"I know it's women's work, Ranabi, just leave me be. You've bothered me enough today."

"Ranabi's dead," Julan said bluntly, and Han-Ammu turned. His pained expression changed into bewilderment.

"Who…?"

"My name is Fen," she offered, sitting down beside him.

"You're the outlander," he said at once. "The outlander that's saying you're the Nerevarine." Wordlessly, Fen held out her hand, showing him Moon-and-Star.

"Gods," Han-Ammu breathed, his hands fluttering around Fen's as if he was afraid to touch the ring. "This is a thing of legend."

"Do you still doubt that I am the Nerevarine?" Fen asked, and Han-Ammu shook his head quickly. "Then you must help me."

"I don't care what Manirai says," Han-Ammu replied at once. "I'm not interested. I don't want to be ashkhan. I'm weak and stupid and the Erabenimsun don't like me anyway. I would just make a fool of myself."

"Here," Julan said from behind Fen, tossing a long, dark green robe at Han-Ammu. He caught it, glanced at Julan suspiciously, then shook it out and held it up.

"Yes, I recognize this," he said quietly. "It is the robe of Erur-Dan the wise. It was handed down to Ranabi through his family."

"Julan!" Fen exclaimed, turning to look at him sharply. "You just took that off his body?"

"Well it's not like he was going to use it!" Julan replied defensively.

"I'm sorry," Han-Ammu said, folding up the robe and holding it out to Fen. "I can't be ashkhan. Not even with this." Fen took the robe, folding it over her arm.

"It's fine," she said, and Shani glanced at her suddenly.

"What?" Julan said, appalled. Han-Ammu looked puzzled.

"You aren't – you aren't going to even try?"

"We did," Fen said simply. "But it seems you are adamant in your desire not to be ashkhan." Fen stood. "But – might I just say, Gulakahn, before we take our leave, that I understand completely."

"You – you do?" Han-Ammu blinked.

"Of course," Fen said warmly. "You don't want to be embarrassed. It makes perfect sense. Of course, the path of the Nerevarine has been broken, for without the Erabenimsun's blessing, I can never fulfill the Fourth Trial, and Morrowind will succumb to the Blight and Dagoth Ur's monsters. It will spread across the land, and no one will be spared from Dagoth Ur's terror. Morrowind will become a diseased wasteland, and everyone in it now will die." Fen smiled brightly. "But if you'd be too embarrassed, I understand completely. Thank you for your hospitality." Fen turned and started to lift up the tent flap.

"Wait!" Han-Ammu called nervously. Fen looked back at him. "Maybe – maybe I can be ashkhan."

"Are you sure?" Fen asked. "Because I wouldn't want you to humiliate yourself."

"I'm sure!" Han-Ammu said quickly. "Um – yes – I'm quite sure."

"Then stop blubbering," Julan said briskly, grabbing the robe from Fen and thrusting it at Han-Ammu. The Dunmer caught the robe and held it up for a moment, surveying it in silence. Then he slipped it over his head and put his arms through the sleeves, letting the green fabric rest on his shoulders.

"Thank you," Han-Ammu said quietly. "Your lesson is clear. Now, with Ulath-Pal dead, I hold the fate of the tribe in my hands, and I must accept that responsibility. Thank you for your lesson. I shall be Ashkhan of the Erabenimsun. And I shall name you Nerevarine." He went to a chest in the back of his yurt and opened it, taking out a wide leather belt with a silver clasp. "I shall do my best to amend the dark reputation of the Erabenimsun. And as my first action as chief, I now name you, Fen, Erabenimsun Nerevarine, Champion of the Erabenimsun, and Protector of the People." He held the belt out to Fen, and she took it, feeling its energy rush down her spine.

"Thank you," Fen said quietly, carefully tucking the belt away. "You will be a great ashkahn, Han-Ammu."

It had grown late since they arrived at the Erabenimsun camp and the ashstorm was still raging fiercely outside the protective bowl of the cluster of yurts. Not wanting to spend too long in a camp where they had just slain most of the leaders, they prepared to teleport back to Ald'ruhn.

"Here, Shani," Fen said, holding out her hand. "You can teleport with me."

"Actually…" Shani said slowly, wringing her hands. "I think I'm going to go back to the Ahemmusa camp for a while. Traveling with you two has been great and all, but…I'm no warrior. I need some time to convalesce. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," she replied. "Just let me know anytime you want to tag along again, all right?"

"Sure," Shani replied, breaking into a smile. "I'll see you two later than. Don't get yourself killed." She flashed them a cheery grin, then cast recall and disappeared.

Fen and Julan teleported out of the fierce winds and found themselves in the warm, relaxed quiet of the Ald Skar Inn.

"Gods, I'm tired," Julan yawned, pulling off his cuirass and dropping it on a table. "I'm sleeping in tomorrow."

"Not if you want to come with me, you aren't," Fen replied, counting out money for two rooms. "If we want to get the support of all of the Redoran councilors in one day, we're going to have to start early." Julan looked cross, but said nothing as the publican passed him a room key. Fen left him a few septims for something to eat, then went straight to her room to peel off her ashen robes and leave them in a dusty pile on the floor. She extinguished the candles and sat down on the edge of her bed, running her finger along the curve of Moon-and-Star.

It had become so easy for her to kill. To end the life of another Mer. She remembered the first time she had done it, when she had been attacked by the Dark Brotherhood assassin on her way to Maar Gan. How it had shaken her so badly, how she had barely been able to sleep.

Fen lay back on the bed, crossing her hands over her abdomen and staring up at the red-and-white tiled ceiling. Surely it was her job to kill. It was her destiny. Something that couldn't be avoided.

"But why _me_?" Fen whispered to herself. "Why was _I _chosen for this?" It could have been someone like Julan, who had been trailed from birth to be a warrior. Or someone like her grandmother, who seemed to understand everything about the world they lived in. But something had happened and Fen had been set on this course. She lifted her hand to stare at Moon-and-Star.

Something.


	30. Chapter 30

Three hours passed and found Fen lying wide awake in her bed, staring listlessly at the ceiling. Every time she thought about convincing the Redoran councilors to support her, a nervous flutter went through her stomach. Despite the public not knowing about her, Fen's grandmother had educated her well on the art of diplomacy, reasoning that she would need it someday regardless. _Seems like now's the time to use it, _Fen thought to herself. She rolled over, trying to get comfortable, and saw the crack of light under the door widen. Then the door was open partway, and a hunched, emaciated figure was shuffling into the room, its heavy breathing raspy and loud.

Without hesitation, Fen seized the Staff of Magnus, stashed beside her bed for this very purpose, and leapt to her feet as the Ash Zombie limped across the flagstones to her. Fen swung the staff over its head and it fell with a solid _crack _and an inhuman groan.

"Fen!" Julan appeared at the door and his eyes widened as he saw the Ash Zombie at Fen's feet. "The Sixth House is going after _you_!" he exclaimed, smacking his forehead in disbelief. "Gods, of course! I'm such an idiot!"

"I wouldn't argue that," Fen said wryly, setting the Staff of Magnus down and picking up the creature's feet. "Help me with this, would you?" They carried the Zombie outside and left it in the scrub there, much to the suspicion of the night guard.

"I don't feel much like sleeping now," Fen muttered as she and Julan returned inside to the dark bar. All the other customers had long gone to bed. As the next morning dawned, Fen dressed in one of her nicer robes, navy silk with gold embroidery around the sleeves. She knocked on Julan's door, checking to make sure her hair was in place and her shoes weren't scuffed. Then the door swung open and Julan appeared, wearing the stained shirt and pants he had been on the day they met with his dented silver boots.

"Ready!" he said brightly.

"No, you're not," Fen replied, taking his arm and going back to her room. She swung the door shut behind him and started to dig through her bag, finally managing to pull out a wrinkled satin blouse and a pair brocaded ivory pants. "Put these on," she instructed, adding a pair of embroidered cloth shoes.

"Are you kidding?" Julan replied, holding up one sleeve of the shirt. "I'm not wearing this. Shani might, though."

"If I walk in there with a clear Ashlander in tow, the councilors will dismiss me without a thought," Fen said sharply. "I'm not having you walk into their manors with me wearing that."

"Fine," Julan said grudgingly, taking the clothes back to his room. He came out, looking extremely uncomfortable and pulling at the tight satin pants. "I feel like an idiot."

"You look quite dapper," Fen muttered disconcertedly, packing everything back into her bag.

"I suppose you're going to make me braid my hair like a girl too, aren't you?"

"Actually…" she replied, turning around thoughtfully.

"I'm not doing it. Let's just go." Julan strapped his sword onto his lace-edged belt and grumpily followed Fen outside.

Fen had spent a fair amount of time in Ald'ruhn during her early days with the Mages Guild, but she had never entered Ald Skar, the colossal crab shell where the Redoran Councilors built their manors. She vaguely remembered Gildan, the Blades Trainer that lived in Ald'ruhn, explaining the concept of the hollowed-out crab shell to her, but couldn't recall the details. She was, however, enormously grateful that all the councilors could be reached under one roof, unlike the Hlaalu and Telvanni representatives.

"This thing is _huge,_" Julan said as they entered the shadow of the enormous shell. "Gods, how long do you think it took them to hollow this thing out?"

"Dunno," Fen muttered, heading towards the tiny, oval-shaped door set into the rough surface of the shell. They pushed it open and ducked inside, and Fen's breath caught in her throat.

The inside of Ald Skar was cavernous, so enormous that the other side of the room was almost hard to see. The walls had a greenish cast about them, and they were ribboned with the bones of the great crab, stretching far across the ceiling. Some of the bones had been drilled with holes and had lanterns strung through them, hanging from loops of rope and giving a few hazy orbs of light up near the ceiling. A network of wooden bridges and platforms crisscrossed the shell, stretching from the platform Fen and Julan stood on to all the far reaches of the hall, which had small oval-shaped doors placed along it at regular intervals. Each door had a small platform before it and an enormous banner hanging over it, brandishing the family name in brightly-painted Daedric letters. A set of rickety-looking wooden stairs led down to the floor of the shell, where there seemed to be a few shops set into the walls here. The walkways were crowded with people – guards in bonemold armor patrolling the bridges, well-dressed pages for councilors hurrying back and forth running errands, lowly retainers clustered around the doors to the Council Manor, and so many nobles Fen felt dizzy looking at all the silk and brocade. At least two thirds of the Dunmer in this hall had to be related to a councilor somehow – for they all walked with an air that was familiar to Fen, having grown up in the palace, a sort of jaunty strut that showed they could order any of the people around them to hang themselves and they would do it.

"Get out of the way!" someone said sharply from behind, and Fen and Julan stepped aside as a commonly-dressed Dunmer man stumbled through the door, his arms full of bales of silk, and went down the rickety steps, disappearing into the crowd below. The man brought Fen back to her senses, and she grabbed Julan's arm and waded into the masses, stepping sideways and around people and feeling nervous on the rope bridges, which she decided couldn't possibly hold as much weight as they were. After stepping on someone's foot twice, bumping a page that dropped his papers over the edge of the bridge, and stumbling into a guard that glared darkly at them, they finally made it across Ald Skar to the three oval-shaped doors leading to the council manor. The retainers scampered out of their way, and Fen pushed open one of the doors and ducked inside.

Thankfully, the atrium of the Redoran Council Manor was much tamer than the interior of Ald Skar. The ceiling was at a normal height and there was a round planter in the center of the room encircled by finely carved benches. Pages and retainers taking a break from their duties clustered there, while others stood in groups around the room and still others were carrying armfuls of papers down a wide hallway that turned off to the right. As they started to cross the atrium, one of the oval doors opened and all the pages and retainers in the room fell quiet and stood respectfully for the woman who had just entered.

She was beautiful, a fine-boned Dunmer woman with high cheekbones and dark, plump lips. Her sleek black hair was twisted artfully over her head, and her heavily lidded eyes gazed ahead, not taking any notice of the silent people standing in her honor all around her as she crossed the room quickly and smoothly. The two guards on either side of her went with her down the wide hallway, where her satin skirt whipped out of sight. The pages and retainers resumed their chatter, and Fen and Julan exchanged a glance.

"Who was _that_?" Julan murmured.

"I have a feeling she's important," Fen guessed, approaching a wide desk where a young Redguard woman sat stamping the insides of books with the Redoran seal.

"What can I do for you?" she asked in a bored voice, not looking of from her methodical stamping.

"Could you tell me about the Redoran Councilors please, sera?" Fen asked.

"The Redoran councilors are among the most distinguished and honorable Dunmer in Morrowind," she said, a new tone of pride in her voice. She set her stamp down on her ink pad and reached behind her desk, withdrawing a small red leather book. She handed it over the table to Fen. "Here. Perhaps you'd like to review a recent edition of the Red Book of Great House Redoran. It lists the current Redoran councilors and their residences. You'll find all of them under Ald Skar." She picked up her stamp again and pressed it down firmly on the first page of her book, then slapped it shut and reached for the next one.

"Sera, could you please tell me who that woman was? Who just passed through here?"

"That was Lady Brara Morvayn," the Redguard said, a faint note of remorse in her voice. The woman glanced up at them, her eyes shadowed. "You're not from Ald'ruhn, are you?" Fen shook her head. "Morvayn Manor is the only councilor's home that is outside the walls of Ald Skar. It was recently overrun by corprus monsters and Lord Morvayn was slain in defense of his home. The Lady, thank Vehk, managed to escape, but she is traumatized and barely speaks at council meetings anymore. The guards tried to enter to recover Lord Morvayn's body, but three were killed and only one got out alive. So they boarded the place up and ordered that no one go near it." She shook her head. "Such a shame. Lady Morvayn is so wise."

"Thank you," Fen said, and she and Julan found an empty stretch of wall near the doors to stand and flip through the Red Book of House Redoran.

"Idiot guards," Julan hissed as a few of them entered and went down the wide hallway. "Just closing off a Sixth House base like that, one that's right in the middle of town, because they're too cowardly to try again."

"Nibani Maesa said we should start with Athyn Sarethi," Fen said, finding the councilor's page in the Red Book. His name was preceded by a long list of titles and accomplishments, then, at the very bottom, it stated he took up residence in Ald Skar. Fen pulled her locket out from under her robe and clicked it open, glancing at the clock side – it was nearly eight o' clock.

"What's that?" Julan asked. Fen looked up and found he was looking at the locket.

"Oh…it's from my grandmother." Fen quickly tucked the locket away again, hoping Julan wouldn't press her. Thankfully, he dropped the matter and they left the council manor into the bustle and noise of Ald Skar. Fen found the banner emblazoned with _**Sarethi**_, Daedric for _Sarethi_, and they started their struggle through the crowd towards it. When they finally reached the door, a cluster of retainers huddled outside scurried out of their way and they climbed through the oval-shaped opening.

A wide set of stairs led straight down into a long, pillared room with an intricate mosaic ceiling. The pillars, too, it appeared, were covered in painted tiles, making a dizzying swirl of elaborate designs. The floor was smooth stone, and the room was lined with shelves that were filled with all manner of expensive and fragile-looking ornaments.

"Gods!" Julan muttered as they went down the stairs. "Would you look at all this? Why are the Redoran so materialistic?" At the bottom of the stairs, they saw a weary-looking Dunmer man in a lush red robe, standing over a table to sign a paper while an impatient page bobbed beside him. The man finished and handed the paper to the page, who quickly shoved it into the rest of the documents in his arms and hurried past Fen and Julan.

"Councilor Athyn Sarethi?" Fen said, approaching the man. He turned to look at them, his heavily lidded eyes apprehensive.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Could you tell me how a Redoran Hortator is chosen?"

"I'm afraid I really haven't got time for this," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Why don't you speak to one of the Kinsmen about it? There should be a few hanging around the Council Manor."

"I need your attention for this, Serjo," Fen insisted, and he sighed again.

"Only the Redoran councilors can choose a Hortator for House Redoran, and it must be unanimous. The Hortator's duty is defined by ancient custom, but, in essence, a Hortator is a House champion, and must be both skilled in combat and known for his courage and honor. A Hortator is chosen by consensus. Everyone has to agree. A single 'no' is a veto. First a Great House has to choose a Hortator. Then that Hortator has to go persuade the other Great Houses to agree to name him Hortator of their houses, too." He suddenly stared hard at Fen, as if noticing her for the first time.

"Serjo, if you have a moment, I hope you will allow me to tell my story to you."

"Go on, then," he said suspiciously, and Fen began to talk, telling Athyn Sarethi about her knowledge of the Nerevarine Prophecies, her battle with corprus, the imprisonment of Mehra Milo for knowing too much about the Temple, her ventures into the Cavern of the Incarnate, and the blessing given to her by four Ashlander tribes. When she finished, she held up her hand and let the councilor see Moon-and-Star.

"You have told a remarkable story," he said finally, in a grim voice. "It has the ring of truth. You may have been deceived, but I believe you. I may be able to persuade other councilors to believe you as well. But, as a condition of my support, I require a favor. Rescue my son, Varvur Sarethi, from Venim Manor."

"Your son?"

"Yes, my son. He is being held in Venim Manor, which is the first manor to your right when you enter Skar. I have heard Bolvyn Venim is keeping him in the right wing of his manor. You must be careful not to kill Bolvyn Venim himself, or the other councilors will turn against you."

"Bolvyn Venim is your Archmaster, isn't he?" Fen said, recalling the name.

"Yes. He is a strong leader, and has done great things for House Redoran. How can I explain the hold he has over the hearts of the Redoran people?" Sarethi rubbed his eyes. "He brought us back from certain defeat. He moved the council here to Vvardenfell and took our share of the frontier lands. He is a natural leader, born to rule. One only wishes he was just and fair as well as strong.

"You must be careful not to harm Bolvyn Venim in any way. If you were to kill Bolvyn Venim now, the other councilors would turn against you. Once you have rescued my son, I will tell you a way that we might deal with Bolvyn Venim, but for now, just rescue my son, Varvur Sarethi."

"Of course," Fen said, and she and Julan bowed respectfully and took their leave.

"So the Redoran councilors kidnap each other's kids?" Julan muttered. "Honorable, ha!"

They managed to cross the crowded interior of Ald Skar again to the oval door with the banner emblazoned _**Venim**_ overhead.

"Julan," Fen said, making sure they were out of earshot of two pages whispering nearby. "I think you ought to wait here."

"What? Why?"

"I'm going to use my Amulet of Shadows to get to Varvur, and I have a spell that will make him invisible. One less person will make it easier to get out."

"Are you sure?" Julan said skeptically.

"Positive," Fen assured him. "I'll be right back."

Standing behind Julan so the pages wouldn't see her, Fen slipped the Amulet of Shadows around her neck and seemingly vanished. She waited until a page pushed open the door to Venim Manor, then slipped in after him.

The atrium of Venim Manor was even more ridiculous than Sarethi Manor. Its ceiling was at least two stories high with a wide balcony running around the edge. A large round planter stood in the middle of the square hall, holding trees that grazed the tiled ceiling. The guards here were not Redoran guards – they looked like hired mercenaries, many of them wearing heavy Dwemer armor and guarding various doors and hallways as pages hurried past them. Fen kept to the edges of the hall so as to not bump into anyone and found the door to the right wing. Unfortunately, no one seemed to be going through the right wing, and she was forced to wait ten minutes until the guards changed shifts and one of them pushed open the door to the right wing. Fen slipped past him and down the stairs into an equally large room, though this one was laid with training mats.

Fen hovered around the edges of the hall, studying it carefully. She noticed a sheaf of paper with a key resting atop it on a bench and crept over to read it, avoiding the stocky Dunmer woman in full Dwemer armor who was patrolling around the area.

_Malsa,_

_Keep our special guest in the room behind the tapestry. Make sure the door is locked and that he is under guard at all times. If he escapes, I will blame you._

_V_

Fen made sure the woman wasn't looking, then carefully lifted the key off the parchment and closed it tightly in her hand so it wouldn't be visible. She glanced to her right and saw a large tapestry hanging in its own niche. It had to be the one the note referred to.

Fen approached the tapestry and ducked into the narrow space behind it. There was indeed a door here, and the key fit perfectly in the lock. Fen quietly pushed it open and found a young Dunmer man standing there, bare-chested and barefooted, standing at the back of the tiny room. Fen pulled off the Amulet of Shadows and he gasped, surprised at her sudden appearance, and stumbled backwards.

"Shh!" Fen said quickly, pushing the door so it wasn't quite closed. "I'm here to bring you back to your father."

"You're…here to rescue me?"

"You're Varvur, aren't you?" He nodded.

"Come here. I'm going to cast an invisibility spell on you. It will only last a minute, so we need to move quickly. And if you touch anything other than the floor, you'll be visible again. Stay close behind me, all right?" Varvur nodded and Fen pressed her fingers to his forehead, casting the spell. She slipped the Amulet of Shadows back around her neck and they slipped out the door. Luckily, the door to the atrium had been left ajar, so they could easily pass through. A leaving the manor left the door open just long enough for them to get back out to Ald Skar, and Varvur's spell wore off. Fen took off the Amulet of Shadows and gestured to Julan. The three of them pushed through to the other side of Ald Skar and into Sarethi Manor. As soon as Athyn saw Varvur, his face lit up.

"My son!" he exclaimed, and he threw his arms open, catching Varvur in an embrace. He looked up at Fen, and she saw there were tears in his eyes. "You have rescued my son, and for that, I am forever in your debt." Athyn released his son and called for a guard, whom he asked to escort Varvur to his quarters. They left, and Athyn turned back to Fen and Julan, his eyes alive with new happiness. "You rescued my son. Words cannot express my gratitude. Therefore, I name you Hortator of House Redoran. I also promise that I will use my influence with the other councilors of House Redoran. Alas, there is one obstacle. Bolvyn Venim will never name an outlander Hortator. But if you have the full support of the council, he may agree to an honorable duel."

"A duel?"

"The duel is an honorable tradition dating back at least to the founding of Resdayn. Each party to the duel makes an agreement as to the compensation that will be given to the winner. The loser is legally bound to this agreement. Most duels are fought until one party admits defeat or falls in battle. The duel to the death is less common and only ends when one party is dead. The winner of a duel may take what he wants of the loser's possessions, but some consider this dishonorable."

"Very well," Fen said. "Thank you. So much."

"See me again when you have won the support of the rest of the House," he called after them.

"Well, that wasn't too hard," Julan said brightly.

"Now we have to talk to the rest of the councilors," Fen said nervously. She knew the other councilors would be easily convinced with Sarethi's blessing, but she knew that convincing Bolvyn Venim would be an entirely different matter.


	31. Chapter 31

They spent the rest of the morning visiting the rest of the manors under Skar. The councilors had all apparently gotten word of Fen from Athyn Sarethi already, and every one of them, to Fen's immense relief, agreed to support her. She and Julan left Ald Skar just past noon to have lunch before going back to Venim Manor.

"They seemed to like you," Julan said, picking up a bottle of Mazte and examining it with a shrug. He tried to pull the cork out, but seemed to be having trouble with the seal. "Sarethi must have a lot of influence."

"Now I need to get Bolvyn Venim to like me," Fen said distractedly, flipping through the Red Book of House Redoran for the fifth time. "I really don't want to have to fight anyone for this."

"Well," Julan grunted, tugging on the cork still. "How hard can he be to fight? I mean –" Julan was now hitting the edge of the bottle against the table. "– you've fought crazy Sixth House beasts, and if House Redoran is too cowardly to go into that manor, it should be simple." He smashed the bottle against the table, hard, and it cracked, sending shards of pottery everywhere. Julan quickly caught the flowing Mazte in his goblet as the barmaid cast him an irritated look and swept over with the dustpan.

"I don't know," Fen muttered, rereading Bolvyn Venim's page again in the Red Book. "Something tells me it won't be that easy."

When they finished, they returned to Ald Skar, which was only slightly less crowded than it had been in the morning. Venim Manor was the manor just right of the entrance, though they still had to push through a good amount of people hurrying back and forth to get to it. This time, Julan accompanied Fen inside, and the guards in Dwemer armor all glared suspiciously at them.

"Excuse me," Fen said, approaching the guard that looked least likely to want to run her through.

"Fen," he growled at once. "False Incarnate. Agent of the Emperor. Outlaw. Unbeliever. House Redoran knows how to deal with outlanders like you."

"Shut up, you –" Julan started.

"I need to speak with Bolvyn Venim, please," Fen said coldly. The guard's eyes narrowed, and for a moment he looked as if he was going to refuse her. But then he curtly pointed to a behind him and stalked away, still throwing filthy glances over his shoulder at them. Through it, they found an enormous chamber with a kind of platform at the back of it, preceded by a long set of stone stairs. Guards flanked the stairs, and they glared at Fen with a hatred she had never seen before. They found the platform was populated by small clusters of tables where finely-dressed Dunmer sat writing, stamping, and sealing their way through stacks of documents. At the back of the platform, a tall, lean Dunmer man wearing glossy black-and-gold ebony armor was speaking to a page, his back turned to Fen and Julan. The page nodded and left past Fen and Julan, and the man turned to watch him go.

Bolvyn Venim had a hard, sharp-featured face. There were faint lines foretelling his age, but they were offset by the fierce, downward eyebrows and a small patch of black hair under his equally black lips. His head was shaved bare save for a dark fringe that ran down to the nape of his neck, and his skin was crisscrossed with scars. When he saw Fen, his face twisted into a position of positive rage. A young woman hurried up to him holding a stack of papers and started to speak, but he slapped the papers out of her hands without looking at her and crossed the room in three long strides, leaving the woman to scramble after the parchment on the floor.

"You!" he spat, stopping and glaring down at Fen. She urged herself not to step back. "I know who you are!" Everyone had fallen silent, staring at them.

"And I know who you are, Serjo," Fen said calmly.

"Do not be cheeky with me, outlander!" Venim shouted. "You're Fen, that Imperial whelp that thinks you're the Nerevarine!"

"If I could speak to you about that, Serjo –" Fen started, but Venim raised an ebony-gauntleted hand and slapped her fiercely across the face, making her stumble to the ground.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Julan shouted as Fen quickly got to her feet, her cheek throbbing and her vision swimming.

"Julan," she muttered, stepping between him and Venim and quickly steadying herself. She looked up at Venim again, boldly, ignoring the throbbing in her cheek. "All the other Redoran councilors have agreed to name me Hortator," she said firmly. "And you will not, I presume."

"You're damn right, outlander!" he snarled, raising a hand again, but Fen wordlessly summoned a shield around her and his hand bounced away with a hissing sound as if it had been burned. "You filthy sorcerer," he hissed, clenching his injured hand.

"If you will not agree to name me Hortator, then duel me," Fen told him.

"Duel you?" Venim gave a short, cruel laugh. "I could crush you with one blow, woman."

"Then prove it." For a moment, they glared at one another, the only sound coming from the humming of Fen's shield charm.

"Fine," he spat finally. "You have played your tricks with the other Councilors, but they will not work on me. This has gone far enough. If you are not a coward, as well as a fraud, I will put a stop to your ambitions at the Arena in Vivec. I will meet you there tomorrow by noon if you dare face me in a duel to the death."

"Fine," Fen returned sharply, and she turned her back and grabbed Julan's arm to prevent him from leaping at Venim. She could feel the eyes of every person on the platform following them out.

"What an _asshole,_" Julan breathed as they came back out into Ald Skar. "You should have let me fight him, Fen."

"In his own manor, surrounded by his guards?"

"I could have done him in. He hit you!"

"I have a feeling he's going to try and do a lot worse than hit me in Vivec," Fen muttered, gingerly touching her cheek. They returned to the Ald Skar Inn and ate in silence, after which Fen went straight to bed. Thankfully, she fell asleep easily and woke by nine the next morning.

Fen felt her heart pounding in her ears as she dressed. It felt reassuring to have the support of most of the Redoran councilors, but it would have been easier if she had the support of all of them.

She met Julan and they had a brief breakfast before taking the guild guide to Vivec, and from there, the gondola to the Arena canton.

"Julan," Fen said nervously as they started up the ramp on the outside of the canton. "I don't want you to help me."

"What?!" Julan said incredulously, stopping in his tracks. The ramp was crowded with gamblers heading up to watch the upcoming match, and they shoved roughly around Julan until Fen pulled him to the side.

"The Redoran think very highly of honor. If you help me, the support I have from them will go out the window."

"No, Fen," he said at once, as she had thought he would. "No way."

"What, you don't think I can handle myself?" she said, forcing a smile.

"No! No of course not, I just –" Julan faltered. "Fine," he sighed finally. "But if he's about to kill you, don't expect me to sit there and watch."

"I'll be fine," Fen assured him, though she felt she was really trying to assure herself. "Absolutely fine."

Inside the canton, Julan went up the stairs to the viewing gallery while Fen went down to the rooms for the fighters. Most matches in the Arena were conducted by the professional fighters here, but whenever the need should arise, its use was given to those who needed it. The workers seemed to be aware of the match between Fen and Venim, and they showed her the right door to enter through and briefly explained the rules to her.

"Ye all right?" a heavyset Nord waiting to open the door for her asked. "Ye look a bit peaky."

"I'm fine," Fen said unconvincingly, and he shrugged and checked his pocketwatch.

"Righ' then. It's time. Tear 'em up." He swung open the door and Fen walked slowly out into the Arena Pit, her stomach writhing. The pit was circular and high-walled. The stands overhead were crowded with spectators, and a chorus of shouting – whether it was praise or not, Fen couldn't tell – met her ears. She anxiously scanned the crowd, looking for Julan, but there were too many dark-haired Dunmer men for her to be able to single one out.

Across the sand-filled pit, Bolvyn Venim stood before his door in his glossy ebony armor, a black longblade in his hand. When he saw Fen, he gave her a terrible, grisly smile and hoisted his longblade into both hands. The cheering of the crowd rose suddenly to a deafening roar. Fen closed her eyes, blocking out the noise and the fear and Venim's smile and hearing nothing but the ticking of her grandmother's locket against her chest. Time seemed to slow. Then Fen felt something, a force from deep within her, something that was powerful and convincing and could take down Bolvyn Venim with a single spell.

Fen opened her eyes.

The Arena pit was exactly how she had left it, the storm of people in the crowd and Venim's slow smile on the other side. And then, as the bell rang for the battle to begin and the spectators screamed even louder, Fen ran forward to meet Venim, her face screwed up in concentration, a spell building on her fingertips –

She pressed her hand to Venim's face, startling him and making him stumble as it took hold. She took this brief opportunity to try and knock the blade out of his hand, but he quickly recovered and swung it towards her. Fen ducked and fired an ice spell at him, but it bounced away and rocketed off towards the scorched walls of the Arena pit. Fen ducked under his blade again, thinking quickly. He didn't have any shield spell, or it would be visible. So it had to be a sanctuary enchantment of some sort, ensuring that any targeted spells fired at him would have a greatly reduced chance of hitting him. Fen wracked her brains – she had studied sanctuary enchantments at some point. She summoned a Golden Saint to buy her time and backed off while the Saint parried with Venim, struggling to remember.

_The laws of illusion magic say that no spell can physically alter anything. It can only alter perception of things. So if –_

Fen's train of thought was cut off as she felt a sudden, searing pain on her arm. She instinctively writhed away from the pain, gasping as she felt blood start to well up on her arm. It seemed she had taken a second too long to think, for Venim had rushed past the Golden Saint and straight towards her, sending up a spray of dirty sand behind him. Fen seized the Staff of Magnus from where it was strapped to her back and swung it over his head, surprising him. As he struggled to regain his footing, she quickly finished her thought.

_So I'm only _thinking _that it would be harder to hit him because of the spell! _Filled with new confidence from this realization, Fen concentrated with all her might on Venim as he raced towards her, his sword aloft, and fired a spell of God's Fire straight at him.

The blast hit Venim squarely in the chest and Fen caught sight of his wide, surprised eyes for a fraction of a second until he was engulfed in the explosion. When the smoke cleared, Venim was flat on his back, breathing hard, his skin blackened and burned. Fen hurried over to him and knelt. He turned, glaring at her.

"Do you yield?" she said breathlessly, through the din of the crowd.

"I – will never yield – to you," he panted, groaning and closing his eyes. Fen was about to put an end to him peacefully, but his hand suddenly lashed out and, before she realized what was happening, she had landed, hard, on her back, winded. The spectators were positively screaming now. Fen struggled to her feet and saw Venim standing a short distance away, a hole burned in his armor, and through it, his skin charred and disfigured. The black sword was clenched in one trembling hand. A small trickle of blood stained the corner of his mouth.

"Give up, outlander," he shouted, his shoulders rising and falling heavily. He wiped one arm across his mouth, smearing the blood over his chin. "Give up and I won't take your head as a trophy." Fen didn't have enough energy to use God's Fire again, so she settled for a smaller, albeit powerful frost spell. As she cast it, Venim came sprinting forward, his eyes half mad, a deranged scream escaping his lips. But he stopped squarely as the ice spell struck him in the chest, and he faltered.

"If I was going to give up, I would have done it a long time ago," Fen whispered, and she used a final drain health spell to topple him into the blood-stained sand.

There was a sudden, enormous roar from the crowd, and Fen looked up to see most of them on their feet. She glanced back down at Venim, then turned and went back to the door she had entered through. The heavyset Nord opened it for her, looking impressed.

"Ye're free to take 'is armor, if ye like," he said. "Rules o' the game."

"Let his family have it," Fen said as the door closed, shutting out the noise. "Leave him some bit of honor." Fen emerged from the fighters rooms to find Julan arguing fiercely with the guard outside them.

"Fen!" he said brightly. "See, I _do _know her!" he added to the guard. "Gods, are you okay? That was incredible. I was about to come down there."

"I handled it fine, didn't I?" Fen said with a smile. "Kind of."

"Bolvyn Venim is _insane_," Julan said, shaking his head as they mounted the stairs to the upper canton. "Completely insane. Good fighter, though. Nothing compared to you, of course. Did you see when he did that dive?"

"Yes. I was fighting him, remember?" But Julan ignored her and plowed on.

"And the feint right before you snared him, that was incredible!" Julan continued to reminisce about the fight, but Fen let her mind wander. The elimination of Venim meant she had the support of House Redoran. So the only people left to convince would be House Telvanni and House Hlaalu. She was past the halfway point of the Fourth and Fifth Trials.

"Fen." She looked up and, to her surprise, saw Athyn Sarethi standing there with Varvur and two Redoran guards.

"Councilor Sarethi," she replied, a little surprised.

"Congratulations," he said warmly. "We came to watch the match. I had a feeling you would turn out victorious. Now, the Council met last night, and we are in agreement. You are the Hortator of House Redoran. I hope you are as successful in persuading the rest of Morrowind to unite against Dagoth Ur and his blighted hosts." He reached inside his robe and withdrew a small object wrapped in silk, which he handed to Fen. "On behalf of the house and council, take the Ring of the Hortator, a token of your office. By this ring others shall know you as our chosen champion."

"Thank you," Fen said, taking the ring carefully.

"I also have a sealed package for you," Sarethi said, gesturing to one of the guards with him. The guard handed him an envelope and a public broadsheet. "I do not know what it contains, but I received it from a contact in the highest ranks of the Temple. My guess is that it has something to do with the Temple's position on your claim to fulfill the Nerevarine prophecies. And here is a copy of a recent public notice identifying you as an Imperial agent. I am satisfied of your sincerity, but I warn you that others may not be so understanding."

"Thank you," Fen said again, accepting the documents. "So much. Really, Serjo, this is a great honor to me."

"Then let us hope you will honor Morrowind in turn," Sarethi said, smiling warmly. "Now, if you will excuse us, there is a council meeting soon that I must be back in time for. Varvur?"

"Just a moment, Father," Varvur said, and he turned back to Fen. "Will you ever come back to Ald'ruhn?" he asked, oblivious to Julan standing there.

"Oh, um – perhaps. Maybe," Fen stammered, thrown off by the question. Varvur smiled.

"Come visit me if you do," he said, and he brushed his hand against Fen's in a familiar way before departing after his father.

"What a fetcher!" Julan said as soon as they were out of earshot.

"He was just – being nice," Fen muttered, flipping over the broadsheet.

"That fetcher –"

"Shut up a moment, would you?" Fen looked down at the broadsheet, emblazoned with the title _WELL-BELOVED PEOPLE OF MORROWIND! TAKE HEED! TAKE WARNING!_

_The outlaw named Fen, stated trade of Mage, lately called 'Incarnate' and 'Nerevarine,' now is shown to the investigating Ordinators and Magistrates of this district to be an agent in the pay of the Imperial Intelligence Service. This outlaw's claims are false. The prophecies this outlaw cites are discredited. The dishonest character and base purposes of the outlaw in perpetrating this hoax are now made clear to all observers. Fen is sought for various crimes by Ordinators and town guards. Report all encounters with this outlaw to the proper authorities. If you see this outlaw in public, give the alarm._

_Published by the authority of the Temple, the Order of the Watch, Magistrates of Vvardenfell District, under the signature and authority of Grandmaster Berel Sala, Captain of the Watch. Hear and Heed!_

"I don't believe this," Fen muttered.

"What is it?" She handed the broadsheet to Julan, and he read it quickly, growing angrier with every word. "They want to arrest you because you're telling the truth!" Julan snarled, handing her the broadsheet. She crumpled it into a ball and tossed it on the ground.

"It has some truth to it, I suppose," she said, flipping over the envelope to read the front. _To the Outlander lately proclaiming her identity as the Nerevarine, to be delivered with haste._ Fen turned the letter over again and started to break the seal on the envelope. She noticed, as she did, the letters that the seal was stamped with.

VAS

A Daedric V, A, and S, clearly standing for Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil. The Tribunal. It was a message from the Temple.

"Come over here," Fen muttered, and they stood in a small alcove out of the main part of the canton. She read the message out loud, quietly enough that it wouldn't be heard by anyone in the main canton.

_The assertions made being in direct contradiction of the doctrine of the Tribunal, namely, that you are the Nerevarine, the reincarnation of the Sainted Lord Nerevar, are, in addition to being against Temple teaching, incredible and implausible in the extreme._

_The revelations made by the Inquisition, namely, that you yourself are in fact an agent of the Imperial Intelligence Service, otherwise known as the Order of Blades, lately made with substantial evidence by the Lord High Archordinator, Berel Sala, further calls into question the validity of and motivations behind your claims._

_However, as incredible as your claims are, as much as they are in direct contradiction of the teachings of the Temple, and tainted as they are by the inferences to be made upon your close association with the covert policies and interests of the Emperor, the interests of the Temple and its leadership, and in particular, the interests of His Immortal Lordship, Vivec, are best served by a close and personal examinations of the claims being made, and close and personal examinations of the motivations and character of the claimant._

_The Temple, through its examinations of its records, in particular, the records of the Heirographa and Apographa, is intimately familiar with the many and varied claims of signs and feats that would mark the Nerevarine according to prophecy._

_Therefore, in the event of the fulfillment of certain of those most remarkable and scarcely credible claims – namely, that the claimant should, at one time, be the acknowledged holder of several ancient titles of power and authority of the Dunmer people, to whit, Hortator of the Great Houses and Nerevarine of the Ashlander tribes – the Temple proposes that the claimant of the identity of the Nerevarine shall present herself for inspection before his Reverend Honor, Archcanon Lord Tholer Saryoni, High Archcanon and Chancellor of Vivec, Archcanon of the Canonry of Vvardenfell, Arch-Priest of the High Fane, for a review and consideration of her claims and identity. However, until such time as the claimant actually has been named Hortator separately and jointly by the three Great Houses of Vvardenfell, and at the same time has been named Nerevarine separately and jointly by the four tribes of the Ashlanders, there is no purpose in reviewing or discussing these claims._

_Because of the Temple's official position on the prophecies of the Nerevarine, and in the interests of preserving the security of the claimant from those parties who might wish to do her harm, it is convenient that the claimant of the title Nerevarine shall present herself in secret to Archcanon Saryoni in the archcanon's private quarters in the High Fane of Vivec. _

_To signify agreement with these terms and conditions for a meeting with the Archcanon, the Nerevarine claimant may present herself to the healer of the High Fane of Vivec, Danso Indules, and the necessary arrangements will be made. Once again, no purpose is served by a meeting until the claimant is named Hortator of the three Great Houses and is named Nerevarine of the four Ashlander tribes._

_written at the request of and in the name of his Reverend Honor Tholer Saryoni, Archcanon and Chancellor of Vivec,_

_Dileno Lloran, priest of Vivec, assistant to the Archcanon_

Fen lowered the letter slowly and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. This was all moving far too quickly. The Temple knew that she had originally been employed under the Blades, and that was troubling. More troubling was the fact that the Archcanon of the Temple wanted to meet with her. Fen felt a sort of trepidation regarding the representative demi-god Vivec, for it was he who had helped murder Nerevar, and Nerevar's soul that was in her body.

"Wait," Fen heard Julan say. "So they want you to talk to the Archcanon? Is that it?"

"Only if I finish the Fourth and Fifth Trials," Fen said slowly. She folded the letter and turned it over, running her fingers over the broken seal. "Come on. No point in worrying about it yet." She tucked the letter away and they went back out into the hall, which had become crowded with people leaving the match. "Let's take the guild guide back to Balmora," she said, steering Julan out of the moving crowd and to the outer edge of the canton. "If the Ordinators are looking for me, I don't want to be here longer than necessary." She pulled the hood of her robe low over her face and let Julan go first as they headed for the gondola. Thankfully, they didn't meet any Ordinators along the way.

Once they were in the guildhall, Fen pulled off the hood. Malven Romori, a Dunmer woman with short-cropped dark hair, was the only person in the foyer, and upon seeing Fen she gasped and hurried to bolt the door.

"Arch-Mage!" she said breathlessly, hurriedly taking Fen's hand. "Thank Vehk that you are safe!"

"What's happened?" Fen asked, frowning.

"There were Ordinators here just earlier in the day! They're searching for you, Arch-Mage, they say you're a heretic."

"They didn't hurt anyone, did they?"

"They bullied Sirilonwe a bit, but she's fine." Fen paused.

"There really is a warrant for my arrest, then?"

"Yes, Arch-Mage," Malven said, leading Fen and Julan downstairs. "They've put leaflets in all over the city. You can't go four paces without seeing one." Malven hesitated as they came out of the stairwell. "Arch-Mage, they say that…they say that you claim you're the Nerevarine." Fen said nothing. "It isn't true, we told them," Malven prompted uncertainly. "We told them our Arch-Mage would never claim such outlandish tales."

"Is the guild guide in?" Fen asked. Malven frowned.

"Yes, Arch Mage, just upstairs." They left Malven hovering anxiously by the stairs and took the guild guide straight to Balmora, where Fen pulled her hood low over her face once more. The Hlaalu guards would be more merciful than Ordinators, but not by much.

Fen had not been inside the Balmora Council Manor since her first day in Vvardenfell, and all the painful details of the day came rushing back to her as they entered. She closed her eyes, remembering the aching feeling of emptiness that had gnawed at her stomach that day.

"Can I help you?" Fen opened her eyes to the tall, cruel-faced Dunmer woman that had stamped her papers on that first day. Evidently the woman did not recognize her, for she was glaring at Fen with the same cross expression she had worn all those months ago.

"I need to speak with the Hlaalu councilors," Fen said, and the woman let out an irritated sigh and turned to cross the atrium. It wasn't nearly as crammed with people as the Redoran Council Manor had been, but there were still a fair number of pages and councilmen about. The woman pulled a thick yellow volume from a shelf crowded with dusty books and thrust it at Fen.

"The most recent edition of the Yellow Book. Mind you put it back when you've finished with it." She left Fen and Julan standing by the shelf and went back to her work.

"I feel like I'm going to slip over in here," he whispered scathingly. "There's practically slime all over the floor."

"You don't like any of the Great Houses, do you, Julan?" Fen hissed back, flipping to the back of the Yellow Book. She handed Julan an extra scrap of parchment and a quill and had him copy down the names of all the current councilors. When they finished, she slid the Yellow Book back onto the shelf and they left the Council Manor, where the streets were dark and the sky overhead was steel gray.

"I'm exhausted," Fen said, slipping the parchment into her bag. "Let's not start on the Hlaalu until morning." Julan agreed, and they made their way out of the gathering darkness back to the guildhall.


	32. Chapter 32

Despite being a member of it by birth, Fen knew little of the inner workings of House Hlaalu. She had learned over the past few months that they were considered to be the dregs of the Great Houses, called liars and thieves by anyone who was not a part of it themselves. It was with some trepidation, therefore, that Fen prepared herself to meet with the Councilors of the House, for she felt rather unsure of what to expect.

Nibani Maesa had suggested they start with Crassius Curio, the eccentric Imperial Councilor who lived in a manor atop the Hlaalu canton in Vivec. The manor dominated the centre of the plaza, with its domed greenglass ceiling almost touching the roof of the plaza. The two Bonemold-suited guards outside let them enter without question.

As they stepped inside Curio Manor, Fen felt suddenly like they were inside the Royal Family's summer estate in Tear. It was decorated as lavishly as a Hlaalu dwelling could be – richly woven tapestries covering the stone walls, mahogany tables set with rows of dazzling engraved silver, shelves lined with brightly bound books with their titles stamped in gold. Fen stepped forward uncertainly, and her foot sank into a plush crimson carpet woven with tiny Khajiiti warriors. They were given directions to Curio's office, where they found him leaning back lazily at his desk, ham-fistedly clutching a goblet of wine in one hand and a book in the other. Curio was a stocky man, with thinning hair and a wide stomach. His eyes were bright, however, and he lowered his book as they came in.

"Guests!" he said brightly, snapping the book shut and tucking it under his arm. He stood up, throwing his arms out in greeting and sloshing wine down his arm, though he didn't seem to notice. "Droven, the door, please," he added, and a Dunmer servant just outside pulled the door closed. Curio held up the book with a mischievous grin and Fen saw a very explicit drawing of a naked woman was embossed on the cover. "Pornography seems to be the only good thing we're getting from Daggerfall these days, eh?" he said cheerfully, tossing the book onto his desk. "So! What can I do for you?"

"My name is Fen, Serjo," Fen said, pulling back her hood. Curio gave her a warm, close-lipped smile.

"I was wondering when I would meet you, pumpkin!" he said jovially. Fen blinked.

"I – pardon?"

"It's in all the papers! How you've been tittering around House Redoran and the Ashlanders, asking for support because you're the Nereva-something. I knew it was only a matter of time!" Fen paused a moment, unsure of how to answer.

"Well – I am here to ask if I might have your vote for the Hlaalu Hortator. Because –"

"Of _course_ you can, pumpkin!" Curio said swiftly. "But you can't just expect me to grant your request on the spot! If I did that, every pretty Dunmer maid that walked in here would get whatever they asked of me!" He took a step towards her and his eyes traveled down her body. "Not that I meet many pretty Dunmer maids."

"What do you want?" Fen asked sharply, taking a half step back, and she felt Julan tense behind her.

"Two thousand septims should cover it, I think." Relieved, Fen counted out the coins and passed them to Curio while Julan doubled up with silent laughter. "Lovely," Curio said, pocketing the gold. "Now, my dear, I will _gladly_ name you Hlaalu Hortator."

"Can you tell me about the other councilors?" Fen asked, sharply elbowing Julan in the gut.

"Dram Bero lives in Vivec, but no one knows where," he said thoughtfully. "Funny lad. And Yngling Half-Troll is an uncivilized loon who lives in a manor atop the St. Olms canton. Omani and Ules are in Orvas Dren's pocket and won't do a thing without his approval, so go to him first. He has a plantation out by Suran."

"Thank you," Fen said, and she grabbed Julan, who was still giggling, and they left the manor.

"You should have seen your face!" he gasped, and Fen shot him a look.

"Let's knock off Yngling Half-Troll," Fen muttered, unfolding the copy of the Yellow Book, "then we can see if we can find this Dram Bero."

It turned out that Yngling Half-Troll, like Crassius Curio, only required a bit of coin to agree to vote for Fen, something that made Julan positively indignant.

"Hlaalu are all lying, cheating idiots," he said fiercely under his breath, and a passing pageboy glared at him.

"Express your frustration when we're not in their manors," Fen snapped, and they came out onto the St. Olms Plaza once more. "Or at least when we aren't in Vivec." She glanced around. "Curio said Dram Bero lived here somewhere."

"Bero?" said a voice from behind them. Fen turned. It was an old Imperial man in tattered clothes, sitting on the edge of a planter and smoking a pipe. He scratched his beard. "Dram Bero wanders around this plaza an awful lot. Nobody knows where the fellow lives, though." The man leaned forward. "I seen him go inter the haunted manor 'round by the Temple a few fair times."

"The haunted manor?" Fen repeated.

"Aye." The man shuddered. "Redguard kid went in there in a dare few years ago. Di'n't come out. People've been scared ter go near it ever since."

"Thank you," Fen said, and she and Julan went around the Tribunal Temple and quickly found the haunted manor, a small building oddly set off from the others around it.

"Haunted manor," Julan scoffed as Fen opened the door with a click. Inside, the manor certainly seemed to fit the part. It was dimly lit, with the only light leaking in from the thick, wavy greenglass window. The room was a mess, broken chairs upside down and shards of a clay pot scattered about. Thick cobwebs were strung across the corners, and pages torn from a book littered the floor.

"Let's look around," Fen said, closing the door and crunching over the clay shards to the other side of the room. Julan stayed where he was, his eyes wide. "Julan?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he muttered quickly, hurrying over to Fen and hovering by her arm. Fen bent down and picked up one of the pages, scanning it briefly – it appeared to be out of _A Dance in the Fire. _She was about to drop the page when Julan clutched her arm.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered.

"Hear what?"

"It was like – someone laughing."

"You're imagining things, Julan," Fen said dismissively, shaking him off and going down a short hallway. She had barely gone three paces when Julan was tugging at her arm again.

"I heard it again."

"Calm down." Julan gripped her tighter. "Julan," she snapped, trying to tug her arm out of his grasp. There was a sudden crash from down the hallway and Julan let out a high-pitched shriek and made a beeline for the door. Fen seized the back of his shirt and pulled him the hall to the door the crash had come from and was now emitting what sounded like the laughter of a large group of people. Julan was shaking like mad. Ignoring him and preparing for the worst, Fen kicked open the door.

They were in a long, low-ceilinged room, being stared at by two tables full of people in finely embroidered clothes, all of them silent. Fen cleared her throat.

"Um – we're very sorry to intrude, but we're looking for Dram Bero…" A Dunmer man at the head of the table stood up.

"I am Dram Bero," he said, and Fen was relieved to see he did not look angry, merely politely puzzled. "My companions and I take great care to keep ourselves hidden. I suppose we will have to be more careful from now on." He smiled. "But since you are here, won't you join us?"

"Certainly," Fen answered, shutting the door behind them, and the people at the tables resumed their chatter. Dram Bero had a servant bring out two extra chairs, which were placed right beside him at the head of the table. The servant brought out a pitcher of wine and filled Fen and Julan's goblets. Food was served, and they were halfway through dinner when the inevitable arose.

"So, Fen and Julan," Bero said, setting down his fork. "What brings you to my manor?" A curious silence fell on the table, the rest of the party waiting for their answer.

"I seek to be named Hlaalu Hortator," Fen said finally, and a few of the guests nodded knowingly.

"The Ordinators burst into my shop the other day!" a white-haired Dunmer man exclaimed loudly. "Searching for you, m'lady. I told them, 'I've never seen this Fen in my life! And if I did, I wouldn't be telling you lot where she is!' From what I've heard, the Temple's gone rotten!" There was a murmur of agreement.

"I can assure you now that you will have my vote for Hortator," Bero said, and the guests burst into cries of approval and raised their goblets. Fen thanked Bero sincerely when they had finished and she and Julan made ready to leave.

"I should tell you," he said as he walked them to the door, "that I take extreme caution not to be found and that precious few know of my existence here. If you return again, my household will have most likely moved."

"I'm sorry if I've caused an inconvenience," Fen said, but Bero waved her apology away.

"It's no matter. We were going to relocate soon anyway. But I do hope you succeed in this Nerevarine business." They thanked him again and went back outside to the plaza, where it was significantly less crowded due to the lateness of the hour. Fen took one look at Julan and burst into laughter. His face turned bright red.

"You screamed like a _child_," Fen gasped.

"Shut up," he muttered. "Shani locked me in an ancestral tomb when we were eleven. I hate ghosts."

"Even the kind that don't exist?" Fen quipped, and Julan shot her a look.

They returned to the Mages Guildhall to stay the night and rose well before the sun the following morning. Fen had an apprentice mark Dren Plantation on her map and they set off towards the Silt Strider. To reach the Plantation, they would need to travel east out of the city of Suran. Suran was a fairly large town nestled deep in the hills of the Ascadian Isles, known mainly for its notorious red light district.

The Silt Strider ride, mercifully, was short, and Fen only felt faintly ill as they dismounted. Dawn had only just started to break on the horizon. The streets were quiet, the taverns closed up until evening and the lamp-boy going about with his long-handled extinguisher, putting out the flickering flames atop street lamps.

Fen and Julan went down quietly into the silent streets, Fen leading the way toward the east-facing gate out of the city. As they started down the road towards Dren Plantation, Fen glanced over her shoulder at Suran, slowly shrinking behind them.

"You okay?" Julan asked suddenly. Fen dropped her gaze.

"I'm…fine." She tucked a loose strand of hair that had escaped her braid behind her ear and looked up, squinting against the rising sun. "It's just…odd, I guess. I know Suran kind of has a poor reputation, but…I don't know, I suppose I've just been so preoccupied that the quiet feels strange." Fen shot a sideways glance at Julan. "Is that peculiar?"

"Nah, I know what you mean," Julan said vaguely. "Hey, is that it?" Fen looked up. They couldn't have been walking more than a quarter of an hour, and already the bulbous, unmistakable shapes of netches were visible in the distance.

"Must be," she muttered, and as they came closer, a high stone wall came into view, and the dangling tentacles of the netches disappeared behind it. Soon they had come upon a large arch leading into the interior the ranch, where they were stopped by a heavyset Dunmer guard in Bonemold armor.

"Name," he said in a bored tone, not looking at them.

"Mehra Milo," Fen said without thinking. "And Athyn Llethan," she added, using her great uncle's name for Julan.

"Go ahead," he mumbled, stepping aside.

"What was that about?" Julan whispered as they passed him. "He didn't even want to know why we're here."

"He's probably checking for us," Fen murmured back. "They must know we're going around to the councilors by now –" But Fen's train of thought was lost as they came around a corner and into the interior of the Plantation. The closest to a plantation she had ever seen were a few small ash yam farms during a walk to Vivec. This was far larger, however. To their right, two rows of slave shacks were erected, a few with tables and stools set up outside, though no one occupied them. Across from the shacks, a tall stone guard tower rose up, identical to one that Fen could see on the other side of the vast plot of land. A hard-packed dirt road led past the shacks and up a small hill to where a sprawling Hlaalu manor overlooked the entirety of the Plantation. This, however, is not what caught Fen's attention – rather it was the sight just _beyond _all of this.

Huge, vast fields of loose dirt stretched out for miles, attended to by slaves that bore rakes and netch hooks. The netch, enormous floating creatures with dangling tentacles, drifted lazily over the fields, letting the edges of their limbs drag through the soil. Other slaves carried armfuls of ash yams that the netch had turned up and deposited them in large iron tubs at the edges of the fields. Dunmer overseers prowled along them, carrying whips and observing the work carefully.

"I've never been this close to a netch," Fen breathed, watching a female block out the sun for a brief moment.

"Gods, Fen, they're only netch," Julan said, rolling his eyes, but Fen was completely enthralled. In Mournhold, the only animals she had ever seen were the scribs that were sold as pets in the Bazaar and a domesticated Durzog she had had as a small child. Coming across wild guar and having to fight kagouti was enough of a shock, but the netch were an amazement unto themselves to her.

When Julan had finally tutted enough, they climbed the steep hill up to the manor, following carts and delegates of House Hlaalu that had business to conduct with the Councilor. Inside, they were all led into a large antechamber, where Fen and Julan sat for nearly an hour among messengers and petitioners until they were called.

"Mehra Milo and Athyn Llethan," the guard in charge droned, and they hurriedly got to their feet and followed him from the chamber.

They were led to a small office, where the guard ushered them in and left quickly, shutting the door behind them. Orvas Dren, an imposing-looking Dunmer man in unremarkable dark clothes and silver boots, sat at the desk, gazing at them with a hard, somewhat quizzical look.

"So," he said when the door had shut. "Why don't you two tell me your real names?" Fen's heart skipped a beat.

"How…?"

"Athyn Llethan is the name of the Hlaalu king that ruled Morrowind while Barenziah lived in Wayrest," he said simply. "Who has, incidentally, just recently died in Mournhold. One can only assume that you are not really Mehra Milo either, although I applaud your knowledge of the Hlaalu family tree." _This is not going well, _Fen thought urgently.

"I…apologize for the deception, serjo," Fen stammered. "You see, I had a feeling we would be turned away if we used our true names, and it was urgent that we speak with you."

"Obviously," Dren said wryly, "or you would not have used such a manner to meet me otherwise. Now, I have limited time to offer you, so please conduct this urgent business quickly." He gestured at the chairs before the desk, and Fen and Julan sat. Fen cleared her throat nervously.

"Um…my…my name is Fen, serjo. I –" Dren held up a hand, stopping her, his mouth forming a cold line.

"So you want to be Hortator of House Hlaalu. And you've come to me." Fen nodded. "You show unusual wisdom for an outlander." Dren leaned back in his chair. "But what's the title of Hortator worth to you? Why do you want to be Hortator?" Fen thought carefully before answering him. Dren had instantly known her great uncle's name. That had to mean that the old Morrowind meant something to him…and he was a Hlaalu…

"To protect Morrowind from the Empire," she said, and she suddenly believed it. All this time, she had had the underlying assurance that the Empire was with her, that they were close behind her in this whole mess, but now that she spoke to Orvas Dren, she realized it was the opposite. The Empire hadn't _actually _believed she was the Nerevarine at all. They wanted a pawn to control and had gotten lucky. And she was the last of the ruling family…it was her duty to protect Morrowind by birthright as well as her position as the Nerevarine. And the Tribunal…they had murdered Nerevar. They couldn't be trusted either. They were the reason Morrowind was under such despair, and to let them continue as manifestations of the people's faith would be failing in her position of protection.

She looked back up at Dren.

"To protect Morrowind from the Empire," she repeated, more firmly, and he gave a flicker of a smile.

"I have long believed it was a mistake to turn from the old gods," he told them, shaking his head. "Perhaps Azura is with you after all. And perhaps not." He sighed heavily and stood up, going to stare out the window with his hands behind his back. "I will tell you that I've spoken with Dagoth Ur. He promised me the same thing. That he will drive the foreigners from our lands. But I am not one to ignore opportunity, nor am I one to be troubled by rubbing two sides of a coin. If you are a lady of your word, I am your ally." Dren turned to face them. "I will tell Velanda Omani and Nevena Ules to support you as Hortator of House Hlaalu."

"Thank you," Fen said gratefully, realizing she had been holding her breath. Dren gave her a grim, thin-lipped smile.

"I certainly hope you can restore peace to this dying land, Princess." Fen faltered.

"You know…?" she whispered.

"Of course I know. We are distant relatives, you and I. Your father and I were good friends many years ago. I was the first person he told when you appeared on his doorstep."

"And you recognized me?" Fen said quietly.

"Instantly. You are the very image of Helseth. And your grandmother, for that matter." Seeing her nervous look, he added, "No one else knows this, Princess, and no one else will as long as I control the information. Now if I were you, I would see about getting the support from the rest of the Great Houses."

"Yes," Fen said breathlessly. "Yes, thank you. Come on, Julan." Dren did not reply, but merely watched them go, a sad smile playing on his lips.


	33. Chapter 33

Fen had, thankfully, experienced little interaction with the Telvanni during her time on Vvardenfell. The ancient and profane wizards made her nervous, for she knew that they had reputations of being less than stable. Now she only felt a fraction more confident as she and Julan teleported into the Mages' Guild near Sadrith Mora and walked into the Telvanni town under a white sun in a stoneflower-blue sky.

The Telvanni style of housing had always mystified Fen. Their homes were built inside of enormous, squat mushrooms whose long bark-coated trunks wound around the perimeters of Sadrith Mora like a fence. She knew it had something to do with using a powerful Daedra soul to rapidly grow the mushrooms, but they still made her uneasy. Perhaps it was her position as leader of the Mages Guild, but being in a town surrounded by the stale-smelling spore houses made her feel slightly sick.

They pushed through the main street, making their way toward the enormous tower of Tel Naga that dominated Sadrith Mora from its lofty position on a hilltop. Councilor Neloth was in charge of Sadrith Mora, and Fen knew little about him. She mostly hoped to avoid a confrontation, and she made sure that both she and Julan were armed with their hospitality papers (documents that allowed them to be catered to services in Telvanni settlements) before starting up the steep road to Tel Naga.

The tower was composed of a single mushroom of monstrous proportions, turreted with smaller point-tipped growths and anchored to the ground by roots that were as thick as a tree trunk and dove in and out of the soil around the tower. They had been carved into a decorative circle over the entrance to the tower, a root whose top had been sliced off to form a flat, yet slightly spongy ramp up to the small circular door. Fen pushed open the door and they found themselves on a platform overlooking a large square room. The walls were muddy brown and carved into intricate patterns, heavily graphitized wooden pillars running straight up into the springy-looking yellow ceiling. The soft flesh of the mushroom on the floor had been smashed down and hardened, forming a crust underfoot as Fen and Julan stepped off the set of spiraling stairs and onto the floor of the hall. A Dunmer man in a richly embroidered blue robe stepped toward them out of nowhere, looking cross.

"You two appear to be lost."

"We need to speak with Councilor Neloth," Fen said. The Dunmer narrowed his eyes.

"It seems a great deal of people want to speak with the Master these days," he said harshly. Fen frowned.

"I'm afraid it's rather urgent, so if you would kindly direct us to his quarters, we would be most appreciative." They glared steadily at one another for a beat.

"Master Neloth is out," the Dunmer said, turning his back on them and starting towards a small circular doorway. "You'll have to come back later."

"When will he be back?" The man paused.

"The Master does not share every detail of his schedule with me," he answered. He turned back to glare at them again. "Now I suggest you make yourselves scarce. If I see you in here again I'll have you removed." With that, the Dunmer turned and went regally down the hall and out of sight.

"Come on," Julan muttered, but Fen stopped him.

"I have a feeling Master Neloth _is _here," she whispered, looking around the great hall. "We just have to find him without getting caught."

"What makes you think that?" Julan asked, looking exasperated.

"Call it a gut feeling," Fen answered, stepping away from him and raising her eyes. The Telvanni, as she remembered, were fond of using flight to get to the upper reaches of their towers. Sure enough, there was a round door and a ledge up near the ceiling, with no conceivable way to reach it. "Let's go before he comes back," she suggested, and they levitated easily up to the ledge. Through the door, they were immediately faced with a narrow tube that moved straight upwards. Fen went first, floating up the vertical tunnel and landing easily in the hallway above.

"Don't lose your temper," she muttered as Julan dropped to his feet beside her.

"Only if he refuses you." Fen shot him a furious look and he wilted slightly. "It was a joke, gods…" It didn't take them long to find Master Neloth, sitting in a chamber surrounded by huge, pulsating crystals. His chair stood on a raised dais and he sat reading a letter, his chin propped on his elbow, dark shadows under his eyes. His face contrasted fiercely with the dazzling gold robe he wore. An attendant bobbed eagerly at Neloth's side, waiting with a huge stack of parchment. As they entered, Neloth sighed heavily, passed the letter to the attendant, and picked a new one from the stack. As he started to unfold it, he paused, catching sight of Fen and Julan in the doorway.

"No petitioners today!" the attendant said gleefully, starting to hurry forward and tripping on a root, sending his papers cartwheeling through the air. "Oh! So sorry, Master, so sorry!" he bumbled, hurrying to snatch up all the papers.

"It's fine, Veras," Neloth said in a strained tone. He lowered the parchment and raised his thickly arched eyebrows at Fen and Julan. "I specifically asked the guards to remove any visitors I might have today."

"I apologize, serjo," Fen said, dipping her head. "But the business I have with you is most urgent."

"You and every other person in Nirn," Neloth grumbled, leaning back in his chair and curling his hands around the arms. "I have been alive for over five thousand years, girl, far more than most Dunmer men of Morrowind. I haven't time to deal with trifles."

"My name is Fen, serjo," she said, raising her hand to show him Moon-and-Star. "And I wish to be named Hortator of the Telvanni." Neloth rolled his eyes.

"Hortator? War leader of House Telvanni? Is that necessary?" He sighed heavily. "Get me some wine, Veras. Why doesn't anyone tell me about these things?" Veras dropped his papers again and hurried away. Neloth narrowed his eyes. "So. Do you want the job? Are you qualified?"

"I like to believe so, serjo."

"Good. Then go ahead. I don't care. Be the Hortator. Now go away." Amazed at her luck, Fen led the way down the tunnel and back outside.

"That wasn't too hard," Julan mused as they started back down the hill. "Maybe they'll all be like that."

"That would make my life much easier, wouldn't it?" Fen said as they joined the moving crowd on the main street. She grabbed Julan's arm so they wouldn't be separated and wove through the throng toward the docks.

"They didn't give us one of those Rainbow Books," he said as they went to buy passage on one of the ships. "How do we know what councilors to talk to?"

"There are five major Telvanni settlements," Fen said, handing a few gold pieces to the shipmaster. "Vos, Tel Mora, Tel Aruhn, Sadrith Mora, and Tel Branora. There are five councilors, and they each occupy one of the cities. I think I remember hearing that the one in Tel Mora is called Dratha, but I don't know any of the others."

"Vos is Aryon," Julan remembered suddenly. "They always used to complain about how soft he was up in the Varo Tradehouse. Maybe that means he'll be easier to convince."

"Let's hope," Fen replied as the last few passengers to Tel Mora came aboard and the ramp was lifted. The voyage up the coast of Vvardenfell to Tel Mora was only a few hours, and soon they had reached the settlement, which was considerably smaller than Sadrith Mora. The tower shot up right on the coast, with other mushroom houses growing out of the water around it. As Fen and Julan stepped off the dock, she noticed a tall Dunmer woman wearing sailing pants and a leather cuirass glaring in their direction, her hand on the hilt of her sword. She glanced the other way and saw a female guard in Dwemer boots gazing at them with a similar venom.

"Friendly bunch," Julan muttered, and they mounted the stairs that led off the docks and into the shadow of the tower. As Fen looked around, she noticed that all the people in Tel Mora seemed to be women, and they all seemed to be giving them narrow-eyed looks as they passed. One Bosmer woman carrying several bolts of cloth even deliberately slammed her shoulder into Julan, sending him sprawling to the ground.

"What the hell is wrong with people here?" he said furiously, scrambling to his feet.

"I don't think it's them," Fen said, glancing around again. "It's you."

"_Me?_" he repeated incredulously. "I didn't do anything!"

"It 's because you're a man," Fen replied.

"What?"

"Julan, open your eyes!" she hissed. "They're all looking daggers at you!" She pulled him into a small niche off of the main path. "Why don't you water walk across the channel to Vos and I can meet you there after I talk to Dratha? I don't want you getting into any trouble."

"No way," Julan said instantly. "I'm not leaving you to deal with these crazy wizards on your own. I'm coming with you." Fen could see there was no point in arguing with him.

"Fine," she answered. "But let me do the talking, all right?" They climbed the tower, passing several guards, all of whom were female. Inside, it was much like the tower of Tel Naga in décor, but filled with only women advisors. No one interrupted them, however, as they levitated up into the lavish chamber where Mistress Dratha was writing in an enormous leather-bound book.

Dratha was tiny, quite possibly the smallest Dunmer Fen had ever seen. Her feet barely scraped the carpet and her hands were about a fourth of the size of Fen's. A pile of thinning white hair sat messily atop her head, pinned up in a dozen different places with loose wisps hanging down around her face, which was shriveled and tiny. It reminded Fen of the apples that used to grow on a tree in the Palace Courtyard that her nurse-mary would never let her eat because they were so wrinkled and spotted.

When they entered, Dratha set down the quill – which looked like it was longer than her arm – and looked up at them, her eyes hidden under her folds of translucent skin.

"Who are you?" she snapped in a surprisingly strong voice.

"My name is Fen, sera, and this is my companion, Julan." Dratha pushed away from the table and got to her feet. She looked like she barely came up to Julan's chest.

"Why do you travel with a man?" Dratha snapped, shuffling over to them. She prodded Julan sharply in the stomach and he leaped back. "You think you aren't good enough? You have to have him with you to get by in this world? Is that what you think, girl?"

"Oh, no…um…not at all," Fen said quickly, glancing at Julan for help.

"Fen's a much better fighter than me," he added. "She –"

"He's my slave," Fen cut Julan off. "Still – um – learning not to talk out of turn." She stepped sharply on Julan's foot.

"Ow! Fen, what –"

"Quiet!" Fen commanded, and Julan stared at her. "Or I'll send you outside to wait." She looked back at Dratha, who was watching with a grin of approval.

"Good to see women actually taking a stand for themselves!" Dratha said, clapping her gnarled hands together. "Good, good, good. Now, your name is Fen? What do you want?"

"I wish to be named Hortator of the Telvanni," she replied simply. Dratha smiled knowingly.

"So there's something to those old prophecies after all," she said quietly. "I shouldn't wonder. Pig-headed Battlemages don't pay attention to Lady Azura's portents as they should. And you are the foretold Nerevarine?"

"I am."

"Well, then." Dratha hobbled over to her desk and pulled out four scrolls, which were huge in her arms. "You shall be our Hortator. You have my vote. And my blessing. And these scrolls." Dratha dumped the scrolls into Fen's arms. "They will come in handy where you're going."

"Thank you," Fen said gratefully, packing them away.

"It is good to see Nerevar coming back as a woman," Dratha said, patting Fen's arm in a grandmotherly fashion. "And I'm too old to die. I'd like it if Morrowind was left the way it was." She glared at Julan, her eyes hard. "And you. You listen to your mistress, you do what she tells you." With that, Dratha shuffled back to her desk, climbed into the chair, and picked up the huge quill to resume her writing. She said nothing more, so Fen took this as her cue to leave.

"So I'm your slave now?" Julan grumbled as they exited the tower.

"It worked, didn't it?" Fen said cheerfully. The Fourth and Fifth Trials seemed like they would be much easier to finish with two fifths of House Telvanni on her side in one day.

They water-walked across the channel to Vos, where Aryon's tower grew around an Imperial-style fort, the long tendrils curled around the stonework in intricate fashions. Aryon, a modest, kind-faced man, listened to Fen's request thoughtfully.

"Yes, I understand," he said when Fen had finished her story. "You are willing to take the responsibility, and I am willing to vote for you as Hortator. I think the other Telvanni councilors will also cooperate, though some might need a little persuading. Archmagister Gothren is a problem. He will not refuse you directly, but will delay indefinitely. I recommend that you to kill Archmagister Gothren."

"Kill him?" Fen had not expected Aryon to suggest murder so simply.

"Archmagister Gothren never directly refuses requests; he just delays indefinitely, never giving an answer. I don't know of any solution, other than killing Gothren. I'll tell you plainly. I stand to gain if Archmagister Gothren dies. I say this so you won't think I'm trying to trick you. My advice is still good. Gothren won't name you Hortator, but he'll never come out and say so. And in House Telvanni it is customary to settle disputes in this manner." Aryon stood up. "When I was a representative, my councilor was the old Archmagister. Upon his death, he gave me the Robe of the Hortator to keep. It is the sign that the Telvanni have given you their support, and if you win all the councilors' support, I will bestow it to you."

By the time they left Tel Vos, it was growing exceedingly late. Julan wanted to stay the night at the Ahemmusa Camp, but Fen was exhausted and managed to convince him to sleep in the Varo Tradehouse. She rented them two rooms and went straight to bed, though she found it impossible to sleep. If all went well, she would be named the Telvanni Hortator the next day. And after that…she would meet with the Archcanon of the Temple. She held Moon-and-Star up above her, running a finger along the curve of the crescent. Nibani Maesa had said, all those months ago, that Fen was not the Nerevarine. That she could _become _the Nerevarine…She let her hand drop.

_Have I become the Nerevarine yet? _she wondered to herself, and soon her eyes had fallen closed.


	34. Chapter 34

The sun had not yet risen when Fen and Julan set out for Tel Branora. The boat ride was nearly six hours, and Fen spent the majority of the time on deck, watching the smooth gray rocks of Azura's Coast drift sluggishly past. It was midmorning when they arrived at the docks of Tel Branora, a crooked Telvanni town that was situated in a gloomy, rock-covered valley by the water. The skies overhead were gray and heavy with waiting rain.

Fen remembered Aryon's warning of Therana's waning sanity, but she still wasn't prepared for the interior of the councilor's tower. The smell hit them first – an awful stench of something rotting that permeated the very air around them The source of the smell soon became clear.

It was designed much like the towers of the other councilors, but this one was decorated with Kwama eggs. The hung from walls, lamps, the undersides of staircases and tables. They were nailed to the floor in random patterns, pasted to the surface of a table, drilled into the walls to form oblong white archways around doors. And even as they entered, three Khajiit slaves were moving around the room with an enormous basket of them, using a bottle of paste to glue them all over the room.

"I get the feeling she likes eggs," Julan whispered. They levitated up to the higher reaches of the tower which was, mercifully, clear of eggs. Therana's chamber was at the very top, where she sat at a large table sorting different colored jewels into piles. She looked much younger than Dratha, though still quite old, with her fading red hair in an unkempt mane around her face.

"Why are you here?" she asked immediately, her thin neck stretching and her eyes bulging from her narrow face. "Are you here to feed the spiders?"

"I – um – my name is Fen, sera, and I have business with you concerning the position of Telvanni Hortator."

"Well it's a steel box, of course," Therana answered, rubbing an emerald between her fingers and setting it down in the pile of rubies, never taking her eyes off them. "You keep things like bittergreen roots in it, keeps 'em fresh, with a little netch blood. Or is that a hormador? Yes. Or spiders. In the box. Spider eggs. Keeps 'em fresh. With netch blood. You wouldn't have any with you, eh? Spider eggs? Nice fresh ones?"

"Um…no."

"So, go ahead. Show me the hordador. Hormador? You got it with you? Always happy to get some fresh spider eggs. Or spiders? When I was a MUCH younger, we grew our own spiders in hormadors. Big ones. Needed 'em big, for the spiders. What? Spiders? You listening?" Fen nodded quickly. "Spiders. That's what I said. Big ones. So you need a big hortator. Ours was steel, with silver plating. Kier-jo used to polish it. Cute little kitty. Had it since it was a bitty kitty. Gone now, of course. Dropped dead. They get old, and you have to get new ones. Never quite as good as the old ones, of course, but what can you do. Oh! There you are, Fur! What was your name again? Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, sera," Fen said quickly. "But I was wondering about the Telvanni Hortator –"

"What? Oh. You want to be a Hortator? Certainly. Go right ahead. Whatever you like. I don't mind. What were we talking about?"

"We were just leaving," Julan said, and he grabbed Fen's arm as they levitated out. "She's crazy," he whispered, glancing back at her. Therana had picked up a quill and was stroking her ratty hair with it, singing a traditional Dunmer song Fen recognized to her Khajiiti slave.

"Maybe she can't help it," Fen suggested, and Julan rolled his eyes.

"I suppose it's better that you're in the Mages Guild than in with _those _idiots," he said, leading the way back to the dock.

It was evening when they reached Tel Aruhn, the settlement of Archmagister Gothren. So far, all the sorcerers of House Telvanni had been easy to convince. Fen had a nasty feeling, however, that Gothren wouldn't be as simple. Sure enough, when they entered his tower and found him sitting on a raised dais guarded by two scowling Dremora, he muttered that he had to think about it.

"If you please, serjo," Fen asked nervously, glancing at the Dremora. "All of the other councilors have agreed. And it is exceedingly important that I have your refusal or approval tonight."

"I _told _you," he said, straightening up in his chair. "I have to _think _about it. I know the rest of the councilors are so boneheaded that they will agree to any offer that comes into their hands, but I am different! Leave me!" Fen turned to go, then remembered Aryon's words. _He will not refuse you directly, but will delay indefinitely. _There was nothing else she could do.

Making sure Julan was out of the way, she turned on her heel and fired a spell of God's Fire into Gothren's room. The blast encompassed the entire chamber, and Fen heard the Dremora drop dead. But now she was severely sapped on magicka, and Gothren, while weakened, was doubtlessly still alive.

"Fen, what the hell are you doing?!" Julan shouted as the smoke cleared and Gothren was briefly visible, his robes scorched and blackened, his eyes furious. Then he let off a similar spell towards Fen, and she seized Julan and pulled him to the ground beside her.

"Help me!" she snapped as Gothren's spell flashed overhead and went through the wall, sending chunks of mushroom flying about the room. Thunder boomed outside as Fen sprang to her feet, draining a Restore Magicka potion as she did so. She used one of Dratha's scrolls to summon a Golden Saint and pulled the Staff of Magnus from where it hung behind her shoulders. Julan and the Golden Saint ran forward to meet Gothren and Fen joined them, swinging the Staff over Gothren's head and letting its power drain his energy. He hurled some sort of spell at the Golden Saint and it shattered to dust, then another at Julan. Julan froze mid-swing and remained immobile while Gothren turned to Fen.

He raised his hand to fire another blast, and Fen threw her Mages' Staff toward him. His spell burned the Staff into ash and he raised his hand for another blow. At that moment, the paralysis spell on Julan wore off and he finished his blow, cutting through the fabric of Gothren's robe and cleaning severing his arm from the rest of his body.

Gothren shrieked, reeling backwards while blood spurted from his shoulder, drenching all three of them. Any other person would have been killed instantly, but Gothren, whose life was sustained through the necromantic arts, remained alive. Fen risked the rest of her magicka with a spell of God's Fire that swept through the whole room. She dropped to the ground to avoid the backlash of the spell, burying her head in her arms as heat blazed above her. When the air cooled again, Fen slowly raised her head to take in the ruined room. Gothren was gone, incinerated by the God's Fire. And Julan…Julan was nowhere to be seen.

"No," Fen whispered, struggling to her feet. "No, no, no, no…" She gazed frantically around. The room was a mess – furniture was fire, ornate tapestries had been turned to piles of smoking ash. An entire section of wall had been blown away and rain poured in through the gap. The tower felt utterly empty. Fen went to the empty section of wall and peered out…her heart leapt. Julan lay far below, sprawled on the ground surrounded by chunks of mushroom and ruined furniture. Guards were hurrying towards him – people were clustered nearby, muttering.

Fen pulled the Amulet of Slowfall from her pack and clipped it around her neck, then leapt from the tower. Her descent slowed down until she reached the ground right beside Julan. She yanked the amulet from her neck and knelt by Julan's side, urgently feeling for a pulse and oblivious to the whispers around her.

"Please Julan," she muttered, pressing her fingers into his neck just under his jaw. "Please…" There! A beat! It was very faint, but she could just barely make it out. She had no magicka left – instead she fumbled in her bag and found a healing potion. She hastily uncorked it and poured it into his open mouth, biting her lip and praying silently while thunder boomed imperiously overhead.

Julan coughed suddenly, his eyes springing open. Fen gave a cry of relief and embraced him.

"Oh, thank gods," she whispered, pulling back. Julan's face was scratched and raw-looking. He had clearly been caught in the crossfire of someone's spell, lucky to have survived it. "You're looking a bit worse for wear," Fen said with a halfhearted smile.

"You're no better," Julan replied, and even as he spoke, the healing potion was sewing his skin back together, drying the blood that was crusted across his jaw.

"_I _didn't fall out of a five-story tower," Fen said, helping him to his feet. She swept her rain-soaked hair away from her face, suddenly aware of the people staring at them.

"I have a mark set in Vos," Julan muttered.

"Let's go."

In an instant, they were back in the solitude and quiet of Tel Vos, where the rain had not yet fallen and the skies were merely dark and gray. They climbed the hill to Aryon's tower, where he greeted them with a satisfied expression.

"I see you've gathered the votes of all the surviving Telvanni councilors. That means you are now the Hortator of House Telvanni. And I had something taken out of my storage for you." He went to a table in the corner, where a bundle of black cloth lay folded. Aryon lifted it up by the shoulders to reveal a magnificent robe made of black silk and lined with deep crimson. Its belt bore the Moon-and-Star emblem that was becoming so familiar to Fen. "The Robe of the Hortator. It is an ancient artifact, and hasn't been used in centuries. I think it will serve you well." Aryon handed Fen the robe, which she took with a sort of reverence. He gave her a firm look. "I wish you luck, Hortator. I may even pray for you." Fen gazed steadily back at him.

"Thank you, serjo," she told him, and he replied with nothing but a nod.

The following day, Fen dressed in the black robe and stood before the cracked mirror in her room, studying her reflection. The robe hung perfectly on her frame, as if it had been specifically tailored for her. The fabric was clearly old, but it felt fresh and new on her shoulders. Moon-and-Star glittered on her finger. Her Wizard's Staff lay strapped across her back. Her hair was clean and braided down her back and her face was set. She was ready to meet the Archcanon.

Fen and Julan, who was dressed again in his preferred attire, recalled to the Foreign Quarter of Vivec, where Fen wore the Amulet of Shadows to hide herself from the Ordinators. They made the long walk across the cantons to the Temple, where they quickly found the priest that the letter from the Archcanon had referenced.

"I'm Fen," she said upon pulling off the amulet. The priestess jumped slightly, then hastily took Fen's arm and steered her around a corner, out of sight of the lurking Ordinators. They crouched beneath the great shadow of the High Fane, with Vivec's palace visible in the distance.

"The Archcanon is in his private quarters, and he very much wishes to speak with you, but I am to warn you..." the priestess glanced around. "Avoid confrontations with the Ordinators at all costs. The Archcanon has spoken with the High Fane Ordinators, but if you are a wanted criminal, they may try to arrest you. If the blood of faithful servants of the Temple is spilled, it will make a reconciliation all that much more difficult. His private quarters are in the southern half of the East Chapel of the High Fane. But there are Ordinators at the entrances to both the East and West Chapels. They are highly trained, and sneaking past them, even aided by magic, may be very difficult. But if you have any art in stealth or magic, you should use it to avoid trouble. Now go, quickly!" She glanced around, then gave Fen a small push and walked hurriedly away from them. Fen replaced the Amulet of Shadows, glancing around.

"You go first," Fen whispered to Julan. "It shouldn't look obvious that you're following someone." Julan led the way past the Ordinators and into High Fane, the main Temple for the city. Fen followed closely behind, careful not to make too much noise. The Amulet of Shadows guarded against the Ordinators seeing her, but they could still hear her if she failed to remain silent. They quickly found the entrance to the Archcanon's chamber, though it was firmly locked and an Ordinator stood just across the room. Fen tugged Julan's arm and motioned towards the more crowded part of the Temple, where they wouldn't be overheard.

"I'll go back into the antechamber," she whispered to him. "You cause a diversion and get out as soon as you can."

"But what –?" Julan started, but Fen had already slipped back into the room just outside the Archcanon's office. Within a minute, Fen heard someone scream in the Temple and the Ordinator that was in the room with her sprinted away. She quickly pressed her hand to the lock of the door and it clicked open with her unlocking spell as Julan came hurrying down the stairs into the antechamber.

"You didn't hurt anyone, did you?" she asked, pulling off the amulet.

"No, I just summoned a skeleton. They'll take care of it fine. But we'd better go in before that Ordinator comes back." Fen lifted the latch and they entered into a small room, where the Archcanon, Tholer Saryoni, sat behind his desk. Julan shut the door on the noise, putting them in silence, watching Saryoni as he lowered the quill he had been writing with.

"Fen," he said after a moment. "Thank you for coming."

"What are you playing at?" Julan said suddenly. "You let the Ordinators persecute her, then you invite her in here and act like it's fine?"

"I understand your anger completely," Saryoni said amicably. "Please sit down. Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"No, thank you," Fen said, shooting Julan a sidelong glare.

"Very well. Now, Fen, you know the Temple's doctrine on the Nerevarine. Perhaps it is time to change that doctrine."

"High time," Fen replied coolly. She had not forgotten the capture of Mehra Milo and her imprisonment in the Ministry of Truth.

"The Temple must protect the people from false doctrines. And your association with Imperial intelligence makes your motivations and integrity suspect. But you have been chosen Hortator and Nerevarine by the Dunmer people. And we have reached a crisis with Dagoth Ur. We can no longer defend the people against the awakened Sixth House. You and your prophecies may represent our last hope."

"So I'm a last chance for the Temple?" Fen asked icily. "The Nerevarine's coming was prophesized since Nerevar's fall at Red Mountain, and you think that I should serve as a final attempt? Tell me, Archcanon, what else have you tried to defeat Dagoth Ur? Because to me, it seems like all the Tribunal have been doing is floundering in their own stolen power. Surely that isn't the right path to take to destroy him?" The Archcanon gave Fen a long look, his jaw tight and his eyes narrowed. He set down his quill and leaned back in his high-backed chair with a sigh.

"Our situation is desperate. But I would rather have you hear the details of our situation, and the circumstances leading up to that situation, from Lord Vivec himself. He has asked to see you. Would you agree to a private meeting with him, and hear in person what he has to say?"

"Vivec wants to speak with me?" Fen repeated softly. Saryoni nodded. There was a short pause. "Yes," Fen said finally. "I will meet with Vivec."

"Good." Saryoni reached into his desk and withdrew two small brass keys, which he handed to Fen. "Here are two keys: one to the private back entrance to my quarters, the other to a locked entrance to Lord Vivec's palace. I regret that, at present, the Ordinators are not completely under my control, so, for now, I'll ask you to avoid confrontations with them. Lord Vivec is expecting you. His Lordship is remarkably patient, but perhaps it would be better not to keep him waiting."

Fen did not thank him, but simply stood and went to the back door, unlocking it and stepping through, Julan at her heels.

"You aren't seriously going to go meet Vivec, are you?" Julan said the moment the door had closed.

"What?" Fen said, looking back at him.

"You believed that guarshit Saryoni was saying?! He just wants to catch you off guard! You're prophesied to destroy the power of the false gods! Don't be a fool, Fen, he wants you dead! And don't forget, he's killed you once already!"

"I think we can handle him," Fen said coolly. Julan frowned at her.

"Well…don't think you can leave me outside. I'm coming in with you, and if I have to cut off another fetcher's arm, I will."

Fen hadn't realized how much time had passed, for the sky was now dark and the cantons had emptied. Overhead, the stars were out, Masser and Secunda, the brother moons, rising slowly to their heights. Fen didn't bother with the Amulet of Shadows. There were no Ordinators in the back of High Fane and certainly none guarding Vivec's palace. The palace itself was a separate canton, the very last one in the cross of Vivec. It was made up of four tiers and a single set of wide stairs leading up to the dome on the top of the canton. Silently, Fen and Julan climbed the stairs to the very top, where they had a view of the entire city spread out in the darkness below them. Wordlessly, Fen slid the second key into the lock on the door and turned it until it clicked. She closed her eyes for a moment, one hand on the handle of the door. Then, with a deep breath, she pushed it open and stepped into the Palace of Vivec.


	35. Chapter 35

Fen had not seen the Royal Palace of Mournhold until she was seven years old. She remembered the moment precisely, as if it had happened moments ago. Her aunt, or the woman she had thought to be her aunt, held her hand as they stepped into the tall-ceilinged, light-filled room hung with rose-colored banners emblazoned with the Royal crest. Barenziah and Helseth had been sitting on their twin thrones at the head of the room on their dais, leaning toward one another and speaking quietly. The air was sweet from the planters of Timsa-Come-By that lined it, and she remembered thinking that Barenziah's deep green robe was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Her aunt had started speaking to Helseth, insisting something, then they had begun to argue. Gradually, Fen's hand slipped out of the protective grasp of her aunt and she had edged slowly away from the woman to the sides of the room, gazing at the long windows that funneled sunlight onto the floor. She made a game of it, hopping from one rectangle of light to another until her aunt called her over.

"You are going to live with this man now, Fenara," she had said, kneeling down to be at eye level with Fen.

"Will you be here too?"

"No. I have to go back to your uncle's farm. But I may come visit you." Fen knew she never would.

"Why aren't you coming with me?"

"Because you belong here and I do not." Fen remembered not understanding that phrase. It only made sense later, when Helseth had told her the truth. When the aunt had gone, leaving Fen standing alone on the vast floor before the dais, Fen had turned to look at Helseth. He glared down at her with a contempt in his eyes that made her want to disappear into the floor. For several long, uncomfortable minutes they held one another gaze, then Barenziah stood from her throne and joined Fen, offering her a firm hand. Fen took it, slightly uncertainly, and Barenziah smiled.

"There's no need to be frightened, child," she had said. "You're at home now."

Barenziah was not there to come and take her hand in Vivec's Palace.

The room was dim, very dim, so that the two pillars at its center rose up into shadow. There was a low circular impress at the base of the room, and in it a triangular platform was erected with its longest point faced towards the door. Three large braziers stood at each end of the triangle, and they threw the face of the man that stood there into shadow.

He was surprisingly small, the size of a normal Dunmer man, though very gaunt and thin, as though he had not eaten in many weeks. Fen could have counted the ribs that strained against his sallow skin. Two ornate paladins sat on his shoulders and his middle was covered with an intricate loincloth. In the light, it was hard to tell, but it looked as if a clean line divided his colour – one side was gold of a Chimer and one side the pale blue-grey of a Dunmer. As they watched, he crossed his legs and rested his hands on his knees, floating above his triangular platform.

"We have business, you and I." The door swung shut behind them with a mighty bang. Fen straightened her back and looked calmly into the shadowy face.

"Let me see you properly and we may conduct it." The flames in the braziers suddenly flared and danced a bit higher, and Fen could see Vivec's face, oddly pointed and wild-looking, one eye gold and the other deep red. She felt a flicker of anxiety.

"When I was young like you, I was very impatient. So I will keep our business short. Then, later, there may be time for other things. First, I propose to remove my curse upon the Nerevarine, end the persecution of the Dissident Priests, and proclaim to all Morrowind that Fen is the Incarnate and Nerevarine, the prophesied savior of Morrowind, and the last hope to withstand the menace of Dagoth Ur and the Sixth House. These things I will do, whether you wish or not." Fen disliked his condescending manner, but willed herself to keep from speaking out and let him continue. "Next, I propose to surrender to you the power and responsibility of defeating Dagoth Ur. You may choose to refuse; I will not compel you. You will receive the power as a gift, in the form of an artifact called 'Wraithguard.' You may accept the gift, then do with it as you will. You will receive the responsibility as an oath. You may give your oath, then keep it or break it as you like. First, will you accept Wraithguard as a gift?"

"I will."

"And now, will you give your oath, before all gods and men, before all spirits visible and invisible, before my honor and your honor, to dedicate yourself and Wraithguard to the defeat and destruction of Dagoth Ur, and the preservation of Morrowind and its people?"

"I swear it." Fen glared steadily into the face of the man who had murdered her all those years ago. He studied her blankly for a moment.

"I was hoping for someone who would have no hesitations about making such an oath. You will now have a brief, momentary sensation of time passing. Don't be alarmed. You are being taken out of time in order to avoid the unpleasant experience of learning how to use Wraithguard. It will be over before..." Vivec's voice faded into nothingness. There was blackness all around her, and she was floating through space, weightless and…gone. It was over. Julan was right. Vivec had killed her, and Morrowind was doomed.

"...you know it." Fen blinked and her vision came flooding back to her. She was standing firmly in Vivec's palace, Julan beside her, and nothing was amiss. "Now. I will notify the Temple that you are our champion. There shall be no more persecution of the Dissident Priests, and I hope both sides shall swiftly be reconciled. We have time for questions, if you like. Or you may leave, as you wish. But I think there are at least two things you ought to know before you leave: how to use Wraithguard, and how to defeat Dagoth Ur." As Fen watched, a long, thick brass gauntlet began to materialize in the air before her. It finished and hung there, suspended. It was clearly Dwemer in design, and everything about it – from the construction to the ornate carvings on the side – was intricate and perfect. Slowly, Fen replaced her Wizard's Staff onto her back and put both hands beneath the gauntlet. It fell out of the air and into her palms, surprisingly light.

"Tell me how to defeat Dagoth Ur," Fen said, looking up from the gauntlet. Vivec stirred. He placed his feet on the ground once more, looking thoughtfully into space.

"To defeat Dagoth Ur, go to Red Mountain to recover the artifact hammer Sunder from Gate Citadel Vemynal, then recover the artifact blade Keening from Gate Citadel Odrosal. Then proceed with Wraithguard, Sunder, and Keening to the citadel of Dagoth Ur. Within the citadel, find the Heart of Lorkhan. Use the three artifacts to sever Dagoth Ur's connection to the Heart, and he will be destroyed, and the Blight ended on Morrowind. To destroy Dagoth Ur, you must sever his connection with the Heart of Lorkhan. To do this, strike the Heart with the artifact hammer Sunder once, then strike the Heart more than once with the artifact blade Keening. You must wear Wraithguard, because you cannot handle either Sunder or Keening unless you are wearing Wraithguard. That is the short, simple explanation. Here is the long, detailed explanation, written down for your convenience. Read it, study it, commit it to memory." Where Wraithguard had been, a rolled piece of parchment appeared. Fen took it, folded it once, and slipped it into her bag.

"You say you will end the persecution of the Dissident priests?" she asked.

"Suppression and persecution of dissent is just one of the standard tools of statecraft. I believe we erred in trusting the judgment of Berel Sala. He and his Ordinators served valiantly in the war against Dagoth Ur. We mistook his misplaced zeal for energy and dedication. Mistakes were made. But no more. There shall be no more persecution of the Dissident Priests, and I hope both sides shall swiftly be reconciled." For a moment, Fen just stared at him, feeling endless questions rising in her chest. But one rose the fastest.

"Why did you kill me?" There was a long silence. After a moment, Vivec, looked down at her, his face blank.

"Why did I kill you? Because you threatened the faith of my followers, and I needed their faith to hold back the darkness. And when you came to Vvardenfell as Fen, I thought you were my enemy – a pawn of the subtle Daedra Lord Azura, or a pawn of Emperor Uriel Septim, or a simple fraud – perhaps a Hero – but not much of one if my faithful could destroy you. Now circumstances are altered. I need you, and you need me."

For the next hour, Vivec shared with her everything he knew of Dagoth Ur's plans, giving her copies of the information the Temple had gathered. He explained Dagoth Ur's powers to her, his base at the top of Red Mountain, his defenses, his servants….anything Fen could think of, he answered. Finally, when she had gathered all the information she could from him, they prepared to leave. Just as she started to open the door, Vivec spoke again.

"I give you one more piece of advice, Fen. You must prepare for war. Beyond the Ghostfence, there are no safe places, no allies. You will be utterly and completely alone." They held one another's gaze for a moment, then Fen pulled open the door and she and Julan stepped back out into the cool night air.

"Well…that was unexpected." Julan said quietly. Fen turned to look at him. "I don't know what to think now. He's accepting you as the Nerevarine, but only because the Tribunal are too weak to defeat Dagoth Ur themselves?! So he thinks you can do what three living gods can't?! That's…"

"Impossible," Fen muttered.

"Oh, don't look so depressed," Julan chided, clapping her on the shoulder. "If anyone can do it, you can. And I'll be here, if you need me. Even if only as a distraction. Or…" Julan grinned deviously. "Maybe we could trick him into inviting us in! How long do you think it'd take to build a giant wooden guar? I once read this book, see –" Fen laughed.

"Right, you can work on that part of the plan."

"I'll start collecting wood," he said, and Fen smiled. She looked up and saw Azura's Star, the star of Dawn and Dusk, just beginning to fade as it grew later. She looked down, her confidence mounting, and she and Julan started down the stairs of the Palace.

"Where to now?" he asked, stifling a yawn. "Straight to Red Mountain?"

"Now, we need to sleep," Fen told him. "At least I do. Tomorrow I'm going to visit the Urshilaku camp and talk to Nibani Maesa again, then go through these notes. After that we'll plan for what's next." She didn't say it, but Fen didn't necessarily want to think about what was next. Vivec had summarized the plan for her – before assaulting Dagoth Ur, she had to destroy seven Ash Vampires to weaken his power, a task that was arduous in itself. Only after that could they travel to the top of the mountain, to Dagoth Ur's citadel.

Fen found an extra room for Julan in the Guildhall in the Foreign Quarter, where he promptly pulled off his armor and collapsed on the bed. She went across the hall to the Archmage's quarters and dropped her bag heavily on the floor. It felt like ages since she had last slept here. Fen stripped off the Robe of the Hortator and hung it carefully in the wardrobe. She put out the candles and stretched out on the bed, but still felt stubbornly wide awake. After a moment, she lit the candles again and went to her pack to retrieve the papers Vivec had given her. From her bookshelf, she pulled down _The Egg of Time_, _Nerevar Moon-and-Star, Saint Nerevar, _and _Nerevar at Red Mountain_, which she had closed in the front cover of _Saint Nerevar. _Fen set a cup of tea to boil and sat down at her desk, clearing it of forms that needed signing and notices from the other guildhalls to make room for the new documents.

Soon, Fen was immersed every word she read, each one alive with new meaning. She pored over them, her face inches from the pages, feverishly scratching notes in the margins and flipping through the papers, suddenly understanding everything that she had not understood before. The candles on her desk burned low, throwing odd, spiky shadows across the wall, but she took no notice, for she was too deeply steeped in the books before her.

Fen didn't realize how much time had passed the soft chimes of the clock on her desk rang three times. She looked up for the first time in hours, noticing her tea had gone stone cold and her hands were splotched with ink. She replaced the cap on the inkwell and set her quill down upon _Saint Nerevar, _which she had been comparing with _Nerevar at Red Mountain _for the past thirty minutes. She sat back, flicking through her notes a few times. She had been overjoyed with a familiar scholarly delight when she had begun, but now she realized that none of the underlined phrases or interpretations in the margins would do her much good. Carefully closing the books and stacking them to one side, Fen reached for the pile of Vivec's documents, which lay untouched by the cold tea.

The first one she laid out was the extensive _Plan to Defeat Dagoth Ur. _It explained that the Tribunal had tried and failed several times to destroy Dagoth Ur, but had ultimately failed each time due to the fact that they could not fight against him and maintain the Ghostfence at the same time. It then detailed the five phases that Fen was to carry out in order to sever Dagoth Ur's connection to the heart. The first phase simply consisted of speaking to the Buoyant Armigers and scouts in Ghostgate, to gather information about the terrain and locations of Dagoth Ur's citadels while stockpiling resources. The second phase explained that the Ash Vampires, Dagoth Ur's most trusted followers, contributed to his current power immensely, and their destruction would mean it would be far easier to defeat Dagoth Ur. The next two steps explained that the Ash Vampires Vemyn and Odros were in possession of Sunder and Keening, the Dwemer hammer and dagger Fen would need to sever Dagoth Ur's connection of the heart, meaning that their destruction was necessary.

Following this was a long description of the Tribunal's account of the events that occurred at Red Mountain, whose validity Fen found to be in question, as it made out the Tribunal to be innocent and merely curious. Then came the passage that Fen had been waiting to read. She straightened up on her chair and leaned forward in the dying light to better see the words.

_The Nerevarine will strike the Heart with Keening for a second time, causing its tones to diverge into unstable patterns of interference. Further repeated strikes with Keening will further disrupt the tones, with the ultimate result of shattering and dispelling Kagrenac's original enchantments binding the Heart, thereby severing the Heart's links with Dagoth Ur, and with any surviving Heartwights, and with the Tribunal. Destroying Kagrenac's enchantments on the Heart will also stop the corrupt effusion of the Heart's divine power, and end the Blight on Morrowind._

_The Nerevarine may be tempted to steal the power of the Heart. Dagoth Ur and Sotha Sil alone know this secret. Dagoth Ur may, in extremity, propose to teach the Nerevarine to use Kagrenac's tools to become a god. We doubt that the Nerevarine is fool enough to trust Dagoth Ur, and are content to take this risk._

_Be warned! The Nerevarine cannot safely equip either Keening or Sunder unless wearing Wraithguard. The Nerevarine will be injured every moment while holding either of these artifacts unless protected by Wraithguard; persistence will be rewarded with death. If Nerevarine can equip an item while not wearing Wraithguard and receive no injury, the item is a counterfeit._

_One last note. Dagoth Ur must not get hold of Wraithguard. The Nerevarine must prepare and use a Recall or Almsivi Intervention if there is any risk of death or capture._

_We place no compulsion upon the Nerevarine to adhere to the plans described here. We believe that they offer the best chance of destroying Dagoth Ur. But we have also chosen to place our trust in the Nerevarine's judgment and skill. Frankly, we see no alternative._

_If there are doubts or questions, speak with Vivec. He has agreed to serve as the Nerevarine's guide and counselor for this campaign._

_It may be that if the Nerevarine succeeds, the Tribunal will not survive. Such sentiments as might have been expressed to the Tribunal should, in that case, be addressed to the land and people of Morrowind._

_May the happy convergence of fortune and prayer meet in our destiny._

_On behalf of Lady Almalexia and Lord Sotha Sil,_

_Vivec_

Fen sat back slowly. She was reminded strongly of the day she had first been signed into the Mages' Guild, when watching Ranis Athrys write her name down on the forms had seemed so final and had made her feel sick.

This was worse.

It would be Fen and Julan, a mage that had lived in a secluded palace all her life and a ragged young Ashlander, facing scores of half-men turned inhumanly powerful by the Heart. There was no way it was possible.

She set her head down on the desk, staring sideways at the sputtering candle, which was now merely a wick in a pool of expanding wax.

She woke to the familiar sound of activity in the guildhall. Her room was dark and her head rested on the _Plan to Defeat Dagoth Ur, _unrolled on her desk. Pushing her hair away from her face, she sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, and glanced at the clock. It was nearly eleven. Fen sighed and pushed her chair back from her desk, going to the basin to splash her face. She had just braided her hair and donned a simple bottle-green robe when there was a faint knock at the door.

Fen crossed the room and pulled it open, revealing Julan, who looked as doggedly tired as Fen felt.

"Sorry," he mumbled, passing her and collapsing onto the armchair by the bookshelves. "I overslept. And I have a headache." He winced as Fen shut the door.

"It's fine," she said, not telling him that she had woken up all of ten minutes ago. "You don't have to come with me if you don't want to."

"Where, to the Urshilaku camp? Of course I'm coming! Sul-Matuul's starting to grow on me." He gave her a halfhearted grin. Fen did not return the smile, but went to her desk to roll up the papers there. "Are you okay?" he asked, sitting up slightly.

"I'm fine," Fen lied.

"Really?" Julan asked skeptically. Fen stopped in the act of folding closed the _Plan to Defeat Dagoth Ur. _

"No," she said after a moment. "Julan, this is impossible. There's no way we're going to be able to do this by ourselves."

"That's not true, Fen."

"Yes it is!" She whirled around to face him, clutching Vivec's plan in one hand. "We both know there are better mages than me and better warriors than you out there! We're just two people that didn't belong anywhere else and got thrown into this mess, and if we try to do it we're going to get killed!"

"Well if you're going to have that attitude, we might as well just throw ourselves off the top of the canton now."

"You're not taking me seriously, are you?" Fen snapped, wheeling around and furiously gathering up the books on her desk.

"Of course I am," Julan replied simply. "But Fen, what else are you going to do? Just hide in your room here and wait for Dagoth Ur to come get you?" Julan stood up abruptly, grabbing the stack of books out of Fen's hands and dropping them unceremoniously on the ground. "Listen to me," he said firmly. "I'd love to say that we can just forget this whole thing and go back to our old lives, but we can't. You're the Nerevarine, Fen, and there Nerevarine's job is to protect Morrowind. Sure, there's a big chance that we'll die, but we might as well die defending Vvardenfell, right?"

"You're awful at encouraging people."

"I'm awful at most things." Fen started to bend down to retrieve the books, but Julan grabbed her shoulder first. "Fen," he said seriously. "You're not going to die, okay? I know you aren't." He hugged her.

"I want to see my grandmother again," she whispered.

"Which is why you have to get Dagoth Ur out of the way so you can," Julan said simply. Fen closed her eyes, listening to the gentle tick of the clock in her locket against her collarbone. "Um…you're not going to cry are you?" Julan asked nervously.

"No," Fen said, stepping back and squaring her shoulders. "I'm not." She crossed to the wardrobe and pulled out her bag. "Ready to go?"

"If you are," Julan muttered, taking her hand. Fen cast Recall and seconds later they stood in the dusty center of the Urshilaku camp.

"It is Fen!" someone shouted, before they could even get their bearings. "Nerevarine!" Almost at one, Fen and Julan were surrounded by the Urshilaku, all of them speaking excitedly. An old woman reverently touched Fen's shoulder.

"Move back," a familiar voice in the back said firmly, and the Dunmer parted to reveal Nibani Maesa standing there, the usual look of troubled contemplation on her face. It was odd to see her outside the dimness and strange fumes of her yurt. "Clanfriend," she said, holding out her hand. "Come." Fen and Julan passed through the people to where Nibani was standing, and the wise woman turned and led them back to her yurt.

"Azura has spoken to me, Clanfriend," Nibani said when Julan and Fen had settled on the round cushions before the fire. "You have been named Nerevarine of all the Ashlander tribes, Hortator of all the Great Houses. You have spoken with the False God Vivec. Your path is clear." Nibani passed them each a clay mug of tea, her dark eyes glittering in the light of the fire.

"We have to retrieve Sunder and Keening," Fen said, and Nibani nodded placidly.

"There are few stories of these tools, and I know little of them. Only that their purpose is with the Heart of Lorkhan." Nibani swilled her tea around in her mug, then set it down calmly. "You must venture into Ghostgate, Nerevarine, into the core of this blighted land. You must use the tools to destroy Dagoth Ur's bond. This, you know." Fen nodded. "I have no more counsel for you," Nibani said quietly. "I have guided you to this point – from here you must continue alone. But I have much faith in you, Fen. All the Urshilaku do. If we did not, we would not have named you Nerevarine, and the same can be said for the rest of Vvardenfell." She placed one warm, dry hand on Fen's. "The war has been long and terrible, and many have been lost. But the final battle shall soon begin, and if you succeed, only peace will follow. Our blessings go with you, Moon-and-Star. Bear them well."

When they returned to Vivec, Fen gave Julan five hundred septims and sent him to drop his armor, his father's tanto, and his bow off at the armorer's. Once he left, she closed herself in her study, heated up her alchemy equipment, and began going through recepie books. Soon the desk was filled with stoppered bottles of potions, mostly cure common disease and restore health. Julan returned a few hours later and Fen had him go through all the books on her shelves, pulling the ones they might need. When she was finally satisfied with the number of potions she had made, she began packing them up, grateful that her bag was enchanted to carry much more than it looked. When this was done, she opened the large chest at the foot of her bed and started sorting through the various artifacts she had accumulated there, setting out the ones they would take with them. By nightfall, everything was packed in Fen's bag, which sat ominously in the center of the room.

"Right," Fen said, lifting the bag (which was, thanks to a feather enchantment, very light) and putting it on the floor of the wardrobe. "We'll take the Guild Guide to Ald'ruhn and walk from there. Be up by eight." Julan left to go pick up his armor, and Fen let her hair down and changed out of her travel robe. Then, for the first time in weeks, she slipped Moon-and-Star off her finger and closed it carefully in the lockbox on her desk. Making sure the master enchantment on the lockbox held strong, Fen doused the candles and climbed into her bed.

Julan was right. This was her destiny. There was no changing it now.


	36. Chapter 36

_The air tasted sweet upon her tongue. The sun's pleasant warmth enveloped her skin. Her hair hung loose, and it danced around her face on the breeze, long and dark. She opened her eyes and stared down at the vast lands spread out below her, stretching far in every direction beneath a deep blue sky scudded with clouds. The grassy cliff she stood upon stretched downward, leaving the base of the mountain impossible to see. She felt the cool breeze sigh out from the lip of the slumbering volcano, spreading a sense of calm throughout the land._

"_This was Resadayn," the man beside her said. "Once." He stood two heads taller than she, clothed simply with his dark hair hanging straight upon his back. His features were fine and handsome, and he was as familiar as a brother to her. "It can be this way again."_

"_Morrowind?" she heard herself say._

"_Not Morrowind," the man replied. "Not that name, given to this holy land by the Imperials that invaded it. No." He stretched out a powerful arm, sweeping his hand across the endless, deep sky. "This is _our _land Nerevar. This is what it could have become."_

"_But the Heart…"_

"_The Heart is not a curse, as you and those Daedra once thought," he said swiftly. "It is a tool, Nerevar, one that must be exercised with care." He lowered his arm and turned to face her, his crimson eyes boring into hers. Upon his forehead, a third eye slumbered. "We can built Resadayn again, Nerevar."_

"_I'm not Nerevar."_

"_You are. We were brothers, once, and can be again. This land will finally be at peace. I need only you, my friend and comrade. My brother." He held out his hand, elegant fingers pointing toward her, and gazed steadily at her, his hair tossing in the wind. She raised a hand, never breaking his gaze, and lowered it toward his, hesitating for a fraction of a second before laying it down upon his sun-warmed skin. The third eye upon his forehead snapped open, round and wide – _

Fen started violently in her bed, her hands clenching the sheets around her and a sharp gasp rising in her throat. She blinked several times, slowly letting her fingers slacken and her breathing slow as she stared up at the dark ceiling. Rain pounded heavily on the canton outside, and thunder boomed in the distance.

Fen slowly pulled herself out of bed, busying herself with combing her hair and dressing in an old traveling robe and Gildan's headscarf, trying not to think about the dream.

_The land will finally be at peace._

_A lie,_ she told herself firmly. _He knows he doesn't have much time._ But the image of a clean, pure Vvardenfell lingered in her mind. No swirling ash or disease-ridden creatures, no trees violently stripped of their leaves, no perpetually grim skies blanketing the sun's light. She could never have imagined such a sight.

"Ready?" She turned. Julan was standing there, wearing his newly repaired armor with his bow and a quiver of arrows strapped across his back.

"As much as I'll ever be." They climbed the platform, paid the Guild Guide, and were soon in the blue-lit hallways of the Ald'ruhn guildhall. Fen led the way outside, where an ashstorm was just starting to pick up. "I had a feeling it would be like this," she shouted to Julan, wrapping Gildan's scarf over her mouth and nose and pulling up her hood. Julan followed suit with the leather hood on his cuirass. Fen wanted to get to Ghostgate as soon as possible, so they wasted no time and left Ald'ruhn immediately, heading south, then east through the foyadas. She glanced back as they began their trek through the ash, looking at the tall, lonely spires of Ald'ruhn and hoping, despite how she had first hated it, that she might see it again.

By the time the loud humming of Ghostfence started to sound, the air was choked with ash, the wind fiercely whipping Fen's robe around her legs. There were almost no travelers on the roads, and those who were out were moving quickly toward shelter. The storm was so violent that it was a relief to see the tall stone pylons of the fence.

They followed the fence down a slight slope to Ghostgate, a place Fen had not been since she and Julan last tried to climb Red Mountain. It seemed like years ago.

The structure was comprised of three towers – the Towers of Dawn and Dusk, and the Temple, situated between the two and above the tunnel that led through to the other side. The Tower of Dusk was closest, and Fen and Julan hurriedly ducked inside, where it seemed very quiet compared to the raging winds that pounded fiercely against the walls from inside.

"It's going to take me weeks to get all that ash out of my clothes," Julan muttered, pulling his hood down and letting a shower of dust out of it. Fen pulled off Gildan's scarf and shook it out as best she could before draping it around her neck.

"Right," she said, peering down the curving hallway. "Let's head upstairs."

The upper floor of the Tower of Dusk was a large circular room with a bar off to one side. Buoyant Armigers in chitin armor sat at tables with their helmets by their elbows, drinking and speaking quietly amongst themselves. They all had weary expressions, like they had been in the ashstorms for too long. When Fen and Julan entered, however, the atmosphere in the bar changed very suddenly.

There was a short silence in which it seemed like every person in the room was staring at them. Then one of the Armigers rose from his seat and crossed the room. He held out his hand, eyes looking deeply into Fen's. She took his hand and he shook it once.

"Nerevarine. May the gods be with you."

At this, the room was suddenly filled with the sound of chairs scraping against stone as the rest of the Armigers in the room stood, coming over to stand in a cluster around them. Some, like the first man that had spoken, were somber. Others laughed and greeted Fen with broad smiles. Either way, the sudden respect they generated was overwhelming. Most of them drifted back to their tables, but the first one who had approached offered to buy them drinks, and they accepted and moved to sit at the bar.

"There was talk here," he said, sliding a few coins across the bar to the waitress. "Of when you would come. Some said they would try to kill you if you did." He cast a sideways glance at Fen, sitting beside him. His eyes were heavy, as if they carried something he would have rather left behind. "That was before Vivec's proclamation. Now a few are conflicted, but we know that if you succeed, it will be a great victory for Morrowind." The barmaid plunked three flins on the bar in front of them and moved away to help someone else. The Armiger took one of the bottles and spun it thoughtfully in one hand. "It would be good to have a victory in these dark times."

"I was hoping you could help me with that," Fen said as Julan gulped down flin beside her. "We're unfamiliar with the land inside the Ghostfence." The Armiger smiled grimly.

"Ah, I know it well. Too well, I'm afraid." He reached for a scrap of parchment by the edge of the bar and asked the barmaid for a quill. Just as Nine-Toes had when Fen first came to Vvardenfell, the Armiger began to sketch a map with smooth, practiced lines. "This is the region inside Ghostfence," he said, showing the map to Fen. "There are six citadels of Dagoth Ur." He drew six circles spanning the region of the map. "Only one is outside the Ghostfence. Kogoruhn. But the tales say that you have been there already." Fen nodded, and the Armiger continued. "The rest are Endusal, Tureynulal, Odrosal, Vemynal, and Citadel Dagoth. These are their locations, but we do not know much more about them. "All our intelligence is old. No one has ventured far inside the fence for years. Sixth House creatures have become more numerous and powerful, and the most powerful can conjure powerful daedra. Until recently, we've been able to clear routes and keep them clean with raids, but no longer. There are no safe refuges or services inside the fence; you must return here to rest and heal. I'm sorry. That's all we can tell you."

"Why haven't you been able to go inside?" Fen asked. The Armiger sighed.

"Since the beginning of this year, Dagoth Ur's power has steepened considerably. The Sixth House, as I'm sure you know, has found ways of bypassing the Ghostfence. Ghostgate was once a symbol of the power of the Tribunal – now, I fear it is no more than a dead relic." He gestured vaguely to the Armigers seated behind him, who had quietly resumed their chatter. "Look at us. We're getting old, and we haven't fought anything in months. There is simply no longer a point."

"Then why are you still here?" Fen asked quietly. The Armiger took a long drink of his flin and set it down, staring darkly the bottle.

"When my daughter was just twenty, she received her blade and shield. We started raiding Ghostgate together with the rest of my unit. She was never scared. Then when we were in Endusal, we were separated from the unit. Folsa went ahead, around a corner, and I heard her fighting. When I came around, she had been slain by three Ash Ghouls." The Armiger shook his head. "I ran. I hate myself so much for it, but I ran. I left my daughter's body in that accursed place. Her mother had died years ago, and it was me and Folsa against the world. And I left her there."

"I'm sorry," Fen said softly. The man rubbed his thumb along his bottle.

"That's why you've got to beat him," he said softly. "I'm too old to reconcile for my crimes. But you, you can do something about it." He reached into his pocket and drew out a battered gold coin, dark with age and scratched from use. "I've carried this with me for years, now," he said, holding the coin out to her. "The others used to call it lucky. But I've no need for it anymore. Take it up the mountain with you. Maybe the luck still lives."

"Thank you," Fen said quietly, accepting the coin, and the Armiger stood and returned to his table.

"I don't like the Buoyant Armigers much," Julan said thoughtfully. "But he seemed okay." Fen pulled the map closer to her, carefully running her finger up along the parchment from Ghostgate to Dagoth Ur.

"Odrosal looks like the closest," she said. "We'll head up early tomorrow morning and get Keening."

"Wait, _what_?" Julan said incredulously. "We only just got here and you want to go up Red Mountain _tomorrow_?"

"Well what else are we going to do? Spend another week chatting with the Armigers?" Fen folded up the map with a flourish and stood, slipping it into her bag. "We've planned everything out. Now we just need to do it." Fen paid for two rooms for the night and left Julan at the bar, going straight to her's. She had a feeling tomorrow would be the most difficult day she would face in a while.

Early the next morning, Fen managed to rouse Julan and double check that everything they needed was packed by six.

"Want to stop by the Temple?" Julan muttered as they crossed through the dark, empty bar.

"I've learned to stop taking too much stock in the gods," she replied softly. "This won't last long," she added, glancing up at the dim, pinkish sky as they crossed outside. Fen pressed the triangular switch on the pylon outside the gate and it rattled loudly as it cranked upwards, giving them entry into the long tunnel. Fen led the way inside, and they waited while the gate closed behind them. "Ready?" she asked Julan. He nodded, his face set, and she pressed the triangle on the second pylon. The last gate rattled up, showing them a view of the ground as it steeply rose upward. Overhead, Fen could hear the wind starting to pick up. "Let's go."

Squaring her shoulders, Fen led the way through the tunnel and out onto the other side, where the gate clanged shut. Now the sky was turning deep, ashy red and the air tasted metallic. Fen pulled Gildan's scarf over her mouth and raised her hood as the wind began to blow down from the top of the volcano, straight at them.

The climb seemed to be much more difficult than Fen remembered from the time she and Julan had tried it. It was almost as if the ash storm knew they were there and it was blowing as hard as possible to stem their process up the mountain. Fen's mouth, despite being covered by the scarf, was painfully dry. She kept her eyes as narrow as possible to avoid the flying ash, using the rocks and rubble on either side of the path to help her up the way. Every few minutes, she would glance back to be sure Julan was still with her.

They had only been climbing for fifteen minutes when a corprus monster appeared from behind a cluster of rocks. Fen killed it easily with a simple fire spell, but the monster still made her feel uneasy. If Dagoth Ur placed corprus monsters, which terrified most men, at the base of his defenses, what would lie at the top?

They soon found an enormous, slick stone wall that the old Armiger had described to Fen. At the top of it stood Odrosal Citadel. She turned, gestured to Julan, and activated her levitation amulet. The two rose up, still fighting fiercely against the ash, and hovered for nearly five minutes before they finally touched ground on the narrow cliff of Odrosal. They were immediately greeted by an Ash Slave lurking behind a crumbled building, and a few of Julan's Daedric arrows quickly put an end to it. A short ways away, Fen could see and Ash Ghoul stalking among the ancient rusted Dwemer ruins, but she decided it would be best for them to save their energy for the interior of the citadel. The outside of Odrosal was, thankfully, quite small, and Fen and Julan found the door fairly easily. They entered into a dim entry hall, and at once a Golden Saint guarding the lower level spotted them and ran towards the stairs out of sight.

"They don't even give us a chance to dust off, do they?" Julan grumbled as Fen led the way down to meet the Saint head on. With both of them and a summoned Flame Atronach, the Saint was fairly easy to take down, and they found little else in the citadel as they explored the tunnels below. They came eventually to a locked door, which emitted a very evil feeling, but Fen opened nevertheless with a spell. Past it, they found themselves in a dim room, empty save for a seven-foot tall figure standing over a rectangular hole in the floor.

"Well, Fen." The voice, which was chillingly similar to Dagoth Gares' echoed harshly around the room. "Have you come to serve? Or to challenge my station? Or to try to win Keening?" Fen felt her heart skip a beat. This had to be Dagoth Odros.

"To challenge," she said firmly, and laughter rang around the room, though the shadowy figure remained still.

"You think to climb higher in Brother Dagoth's eyes by defeating me? Well, then, you might rise at that. None of us Heartwights can die. The power of the Heart will bring us all back in time. But, yes, you might win Lord Dagoth's favor by defeating his lieutenants. No hard feelings, Fen. I lose, I lose my rank. You lose, you lose all. You're playing for high stakes. Are you sure you want to play, Fen? Surely, there is no dishonor for a mortal to serve a god?"

"I do not seek favor from Dagoth Ur," Fen said sharply. "I seek only the blade Keening."

"It is well hidden. Even if I should fall, you would never find it. But if you choose to serve, perhaps Lord Dagoth might even consent to grant you the use of it. Surely, by coming so far, you have drawn his discerning eye, and earned his favor. Be reasonable, Fen. Why risk blood and life for that which might be won by words and service?" Another cruel chuckle bounced across the metal walls. "But now, Fen, I believe you have made up your mind." The figure tensed suddenly, bending its knees lithely and raising its spindly hands. Fen shot a spell of God's Fire at it, and Dagoth Odros was dead before he could make a move.

"Well he was all talk," Julan muttered, putting his bow away. "I guess we should look for Keening, then." Starting from Dagoth Odros' chamber, they went carefully back through Odrosal, searching every place they could think of until they reached a small antechamber just inside the door that they had looked over upon entering. Inside, there was nothing but a rusted gold ladder propped up against a trapdoor and the rotting body of a naked Dreamer. Curiously, Fen went to examine the trapdoor in the ceiling above the ladder.

"Let's look up here," she said, placing one foot carefully on the bottom rung of the ladder. It held her weight, and she climbed to the top and pushed the trapdoor open, peering around for adversaries. The small tower room looked empty, however, and she motioned for Julan to follow and climbed the rest of the way into the room. As Fen got to her feet, she glanced up at the room and froze.

"Fen, I can't get up the ladder if you stand in front of it – ouch, what –" Julan broke off as he appeared through the trapdoor. "By the thousand-and-one spidery offspring of Black Hands Mephala the Webspinner!" Julan exclaimed, all in one breath. "That…that must be Keening!"

So it was. The blade stood erect in a wide pile of ash atop a low altar, its crystal edge forming a startling contrast to the deep red of the room. Fen pulled Wraithguard from her bag and slid it over her right hand, where it fit perfectly and glowed once. Slowly, she bent on one knee before the altar, closed the fingers of Wraithguard around the ornately decorated hilt, and pulled Keening upward out of the ash.

At once, Fen felt an odd humming in her body, which must have been Keening trying to kill her. Wraithguard protected her, however, and she stood up with the dagger safely in hand.

"Gods," she breathed, turning it so that what little light in the room sprang off the blade in every direction. The hilt was made of shining brass, carved and decorated in the classical style of the Dwemer and closing around the crystal blade perfectly. It struck Fen that the tool in her hand had caused the downfall of an entire race of people, had given Dagoth Ur and the Tribunal their divine abilities, had been the cause of Nerevar's death at the hand of Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil. A dagger that had seen so much destruction, but felt so simple in her hand.

"Who in their right mind would just leave an artifact like Keening just sitting in this tower?" Julan said incredulously as Fen carefully wrapped Keening in leather and replaced it in her bag alongside Wraithguard. "Oh wait…these people _aren't _in their right minds," he added bitterly.

It was nearing evening when they left Odrosal, but they agreed that they both had enough energy left to raid another citadel. Fen studied her map and they started towards Tureynulal, levitating over the steep hills and gullies that had formed on the mountain's surface. Up above the land, the ash was even fiercer, it Fen found it difficult to focus on moving in one direction. Soon, though, they mercifully reached Tureynulal, a fairly small base settled in a deep valley. They landed just outside, and Julan quickly located the door.

"Ready?" Fen shouted over the wind, and he nodded. She pushed against the heavy metal door, cranking it open, and before they could get their bearings, a corprus stalker was upon them. Before Fen could muster herself, Julan had smoothly sent an iron arrow into the stalker's chest, making it stumble back and fall dead. "Thanks for that," Fen said, pushing the door closed and leaving them in the calm silence of the inner citadel. There were three doors, and they carefully went through them, finding several Ash creatures and large iron kegs of Dwemer artifacts, but nothing of credible value.

The last door they opened led into a low-ceilinged rectangular room, lit by deep red candles. Dented iron shelves filled to the brim with books of all sorts lined the walls, and several small round tables piled with thick, dust-covered volumes stood in the center. An enormous figure stood at one of the tables with his back to them, long, dirty hair hanging down his back, gold headdress scraping the ceiling.

"No," Dagoth Tureynulal said at once, without turning to look at them. "I'm sorry. No flowery speeches. No subtle tricks. No formal boasts or challenges. Fight. Or leave. But don't expect me to pass the time of day with you."

"Then I will fight you," Fen said. Julan evidently took Dagoth Tureynulal's greeting to heart, and fired an arrow at the Ash Vampire's back before it could turn around. Fen was weakened from using God's Fire against Dagoth Odros, and she settled for a summoned Atronach and her Mages' Staff. Dagoth Tureynulal, thankfully, did not last much longer than his brother had.

"These Ash Vampires aren't too hard," Julan said, going over and nudging Dagoth Tureynulal's body with his boot. "Maybe Dagoth Ur will be the same way," he added hopefully.

"I have a feeling Dagoth Ur will be much harder to get rid of than the Ash Vampires," Fen muttered, going to scan the books on the shelf. Most were books she had read, but she pulled down the unfamiliar ones and slid them into her bag if they looked interesting. "Fen," Julan said suddenly, and she turned. He was standing at one of the tables, looking at an enormous leather-bound book that lay open there. "Look at this." Fen joined him at the table and peered through the gloom at the pages. Her eyes widened as she realized what they contained.

"This is Dwemer," she said, turning the pages slowly. It was clearly handwritten, cramped and small, with various drawings and complicated diagrams taking up anywhere from a tiny portion of space to four pages. "Gods, I wish I could read it." Fen closed the book to see the front, finding it coated in heavy dust. She swiped it clean and saw the title embellished there in – to her surprise – was written in Old Aldmeris, which, to her delight, she could understand.

"What does it say?" Julan asked, peering over her shoulder.

"_Kagrenac's Planbook,_" Fen said breathlessly, running her fingers along the title in amazement. "This is incredible." Fen opened to the first page, where there was only a single word written in the smooth, spiky hand. "If only I could _read _it."

"There's no one that knows Dwemeris?" Julan asked as Fen flipped slowly through the pages again.

"Yagrum Bagarn can," she said distractedly. "But the last time I spoke with him he said that he believed Kagrenac's plans should die with him. I don't think he would translate this for me." Fen closed the book again and placed it carefully in her bag.

"What's the point of taking it if you can't read it?" Julan asked as Fen led the way out of the library.

"It's still an extraordinary artifact," she said, pulling out her locket to check the time. "And maybe someday someone will be able to read it. And in any case, it's one of those things I don't think Dagoth Ur should have access to." They paused outside the door that led back out to Red Mountain. "It's nearly nine. We should head back to Ghostgate." Julan nodded, and Fen led the way through the darkening mountain down to the edge of Ghostfence. When they emerged on the other side of the tunnel, the sky was already beginning to look clearer.

"Much more cheerful on this end, isn't it?" Julan said offhandedly as the stars started to emerge.

"Much." They entered the Tower of Dusk, and Fen felt so incredibly exhausted that she realized almost at once why all of the Armigers wore a hardened, tired expression. "I'm going to bed," she said, handing Julan a few septims. "Get something if you're hungry. Tomorrow we'll do Vemynal and Endusal."

In her room, Fen returned Wraithguard to her right hand and carefully unwrapped Keening from its leather sleeve. The blade glinted brightly in the dimness of her room, and Fen studied it carefully for a time before wrapping it up again and returning it to her bag. If all went well, she would have Sunder in hand this time tomorrow.


	37. Chapter 37

Just as they had yesterday, Fen and Julan rose early the next morning and started their third climb up Red Mountain. The wind blew as wildly as ever, and Fen had to keep both hands on her hood to keep it on her head. It took them nearly two hours to battle and climb their way to Citadel Endusal, a Dwemer stronghold built precariously into a steep slope. In the small entryway, they paused to shake the dust out of their clothes and take a swig of water from Fen's skin.

"I think it's worse today," Fen muttered, shaking out Gildan's scarf and sending sand skittering onto the metal floor. She had a nasty feeling that Dagoth Ur knew she had Keening, and that surely meant Sunder would be well guarded.

They came down a short flight of stairs into a long rectangular room occupied by a single Ash Ghoul. When the Ghoul was dead, Fen noticed large, oddly-shaped pieces of machinery on tables and leaning against the walls. On closer examination, she discovered one enormous piece was an iron hand.

"Wonder what they're doing with this," Julan said, squinting at what looked like a jackal head laying on a desk.

"They're building something," Fen answered quietly, shifting her gaze from the hand to a large foot, a colossal thigh leaning against the wall, a large torso with a plated gold chest. "At least, the Dwemer were. They look like they haven't been touched in a while." Fen turned her back on the giant hand and started out of the room. It gave her a bad feeling, worse than the one she got from simply being on Red Mountain.

In the next chamber, they encountered Dagoth Endus, who, like Dagoth Tureynulal, didn't seem to want to talk. When they had dispatched the Ash Vampire, Fen moved along the shelves in the room there, looking through the various books. Then, folded between a dusty copy of _Azura and the Box _and _House of Troubles, _Fen found a thick piece of folded parchment, which she opened to reveal a complex diagram of an enormous metal man.

"Julan, look at this," she said, carrying the schematic over to a table and laying it out flat. "This has to be what all those parts were for."

"What is it, though?" he asked, joining her at the table.

"Maybe they were plans for their machine god." Julan gave her a quizzical look. "The Dwemer were based in logic and reason," she explained. "That's why they didn't get along with the Chimer, because the Chimer were so religious. The Dwemer had plans to build a god, called the First Numidium, and when they tapped into the Heart of Lorkhan to activate it, they disappeared." She knew trying to decipher the plan was pointless, but she folded it up again and slipped it into her bag anyway.

Soon she and Julan were out in the storm again, levitating over the steep hills and crags for nearly four hours before they finally reached Vemynal.

The interior of Vemynal was dark, much darker than the other citadels had been. It gave Fen a nervous, jumpy feeling, and she resolved to try and hurry through it as quickly as possible. They soon fought their way through to the bowels of the citadel, into a high-ceilinged room where Dagoth Vemyn stood waiting.

"Welcome, Nerevarine," he said, and his mouth formed into something like a smirk. "You have destroyed my brothers, I see." Fen didn't answer. "You may have found that they were exceedingly easy to defeat. Our Lord Dagoth Ur requires all their power at this time, rendering them as weak as children. I, however, am the Lord's most trusted brother, and you will not find it so easy to vanquish me. He has need of my talents, you see." Dagoth Vemyn held one spindly hand out in the air before him and a small gold and black hammer materialized there. He laughed at the expression of wonder on Fen's face.

Sunder.

"I have it, you see, Nerevarine. But you'll have to kill me for it. And that will not happen, I am afraid." He made a swift motion with his hand and Sunder was gone. "Lord Dagoth will be most pleased that you will die in this place, Nerevarine. Your soul will feed his army as we march out across the land to set Morrowind right again. _Hai Resdaynia_!" With that, Dagoth Vemyn lashed out suddenly, sending a shock spell spiraling towards them. Fen, however, wore Wraithguard, which not only protected her against Keening and Sunder, but also protected her from most magic attacks. The spell hit an invisible force around Fen and bounced straight back towards Dagoth Vemyn, giving her time to summon a Winged Twilight.

The Twilight screeched and flapped forward to attack Dagoth Vemyn as Julan pulled out his bow. Fen drew her Mages' Staff and sent a bolt of energy towards Dagoth Vemyn, sending him toppling backwards. He quickly regained his footing, however, and destroyed the Twilight with an easy swipe of his hand. Moving with surprising agility, he struck at Julan, knocking the bow out of Julan's hands and sending him flying into the wall with a sickening crunch. While Dagoth Vemyn was distracted, Fen reached out, pressing her fingers to the closed third eye on his forehead and paralyzing him with a spell. While the Ash Vampire was frozen, she finished him off with a powerful fire spell and he toppled to the ground.

"Are you all right?" Fen asked quickly, hurrying over to Julan.

"I'm fine," he said, gingerly getting to his feet. "Just surprised me, that's all…the fetcher." He glanced past Fen and she turned. Sunder was rematerializing, this time in the air above Dagoth Venym's body, where it hung still. Fen and Julan exchanged a glance, then she moved forward, reaching out for the handle with Wraithguard vibrating on her hand. Slowly, Fen closed her fingers around Sunder, feeling its energy jolt up her arm, countered by Wraithguard. She pulled the hammer out of the air and brought it down to her eye level. It was just as ornately fashioned as Keening, with the same intricate brass designs and crystal inlays.

"Right," she said quietly, wrapping Sunder in leather and removing Wraithguard from her arm. "It's nearly midnight. Let's go back to Ghostgate and get some rest. Gods know we're going to need it."

It took them another few hours to get back down to Ghostgate, and it was nearly midnight by the time they entered the Tower of Dusk. Fen gave Julan a few septims to go and have his armor and weapons repaired (for the smith, though irritated, was still awake) while she went to the bar and bought them both a loaf of bread and a slab of hound meat. They met in Fen's room, where she unpacked her bag, arraying everything out on the floor.

"Okay," she said, finding a spare bit of parchment and a quill. "What do we need more of?"

"Potions?" Julan guessed, tearing off a hunk of bread and shoving it into his mouth. Fen studied the few bottles they had left and made a note on the parchment.

"Do you need any more arrows?"

"Yeah," Julan replied offhandedly. "But the smith here only has those flimsy chitin ones."

"I'll pick some up for you," Fen said, making another note. "Let's see…we could use a few more scrolls…I think I still have those summon Golden Saint ones that Dratha gave me. And I'll get an extra Divine Intervention amulet for you," she added, making a final note and putting the quill away. "Okay," she said, counting out the septims she needed. "I'm going to Vivec. I'll be back in about an hour. Don't go to bed yet." Julan nodded and Fen recalled to the quiet guildhall, where most of the mages were probably asleep. She climbed the stairs to her study and fired up her alchemy equipment, starting with the potions.

When she had a sufficient number of replacement potions, Fen collected the scrolls they needed and found a spare Divine Intervention amulet in the supply chest in the main hall. After paying a quick trip to the armorer's for a new quiver of arrows, she was confident she had everything she needed, she recalled to her room in Ghostgate, where Julan had fallen asleep on the floor. Fen picked up Julan's armor at the smithy, woke him up, and set about repacking her bag.

"We'll get up at four," she said, trying to find a space for an Almsivi Intervention scroll. "It's a straight climb up to Dagoth Ur, and it should take us a few hours."

"Fen," Julan groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Four is in _two hours. _Can't we have a bit more of a lie-in than that?"

"We haven't got any time to waste," she said impatiently. "So it'll be more like taking a quick nap, really." She squeezed Keening and Sunder in with Wraithguard, then buckled the bag shut with some difficulty. "There."

"Can I go to bed now?" Julan asked wearily.

"Yes," Fen said, dragging the bag over to sit at the foot of her bed. "I'll wake you up at four." Julan murmured something under his breath and left, leaving Fen in the room alone. She changed out of her dust-choked robe and sat on the bed, looking down at her hands. She remembered her first day in Vvardenfell, when she had sat in the tiny apartment over Caius Cosades' house, in this exact same position. Now they were callused and rough, crisscrossed with small scars and scratches. Not the hands of a princess.

Fen lay back on the bed. She had fully expected to be unable to sleep, awake all night with the thought that this could be her last time in a bed. But it was only a matter of seconds before she succumbed to exhaustion and let her eyes drift closed.


	38. Chapter 38

The next morning, Fen moved in a dreamlike state. She and Julan woke easily, made sure all their things were in order, and silently left the sleeping Tower of Dusk. Without speaking, Fen pressed the switch on the pylon and the first gate rattled up. They had barely made it through the second gate when ash began to blow down the tunnel, the strongest winds they had faced yet. Clutching her scarf around her face, Fen narrowed her eyes against the ash and pressed onward, out of the tunnel and up the slope.

They met little for the first hour of their climb. But as they drew nearer to the center of the mountain, more and more Ash creatures started appearing, more blighted animals, more swollen corprus monsters.

They soon surpassed the point they had reached when Julan had led the climb all those months ago. The wind was so fierce here that Fen found herself falling backwards, several times very close to tumbling down the steep slope. Before long, they came to a small overlook flanked by two tall, broken Dwemer statues. Fen and Julan helped each other against the wind, and soon they were standing at the peak of Red Mountain.

Far below them, in the deep caldera of the volcano, stood the ancient citadel of Dagoth Ur. Enormous Dwemer towers, the largest Fen had ever seen, rose crookedly out of the ash, rusted and weathered with many years of being exposed to the ashstorms. At their heart, thousands of feet below, a deep pit filled with molten lava rumbled loudly. Above this, a furious tornado of air was spinning, generating the ash storms that blew down every slope of the mountain. For a long moment, Fen stared silently at the spinning fury of the citadel. It all felt achingly familiar, and she knew why – this was the place she had died all those years ago. Only then, she was someone else.

Julan nudged her, and she made a gesture. Together, they levitated around the tall rusted spires until they found a flat space at the base of all the chaos. The wind was the worst here, right beside the swirling vortex of ash. Fen had to grip a nearby pipe to keep from being blown away. She narrowed her eyes, gazing about carefully. Just a few paces away, there was a door, but it was guarded by the same kind of iron sphere she had seen when she went to find the puzzle box at Arkngthand.

"Look for a crank!" she shouted to Julan, who was clutching a broken statue's spear that stuck out of the ground. He looked at her quizzically. "A crank!" she shouted, miming the motion with her hand. His eyes widened beneath his hood and he nodded, joining her in glancing around.

After nearly ten minutes of searching, Fen found a broken pipe with a half-moon crank attached, several yards away from the door. She motioned to Julan, then, with all her might, pulled the crank. They hurried over, clutching handholds as they did so, but the iron sphere had already closed. Julan made to return to the crank, but Fen caught his arm and pulled him into the doorway. After a moment, the shell started to rotate and it closed over them, throwing them into darkness and reducing the howling wind to a dull roar outside.

"I am _never_ –" Julan said, pulling down his hood "– ever, _ever _visiting the Ashlands again after this. I feel like half my body's made of dust." Fen lowered her own hood, slowly, as they stepped out of the iron shell. They were in a small, dim hallway. A short set of stairs went down and turned out of sight. "Well, we're here!" Julan said brightly. "And we even have a plan! Sort of."

"Julan," Fen said softly. "You don't have to come with me, you know. You have the Ahemmusa to lead."

"Yes...and I hope you'll do what you can for them, should I not return. But to die here would bring my people honor. I'm not afraid of dying." Fen turned towards him sharply.

"You don't have to die!" she said earnestly. "Julan, you don't have to come with me!"

"I know that!" he replied hastily. "I'm doing this because I want to! This was my mission once, and I want to see how it ends. I want to prove to myself and to my people that I'm a strong warrior." He glared fiercely at her. "I want to help my best friend make history! I think a more interesting question is, why are _you_ doing this?"

"Me?" Julan nodded. "I'm doing this because….because it's my destiny. I have to."

"But is that enough for you? Think about why you're really doing this," he pressed. "You have to want this for yourself, and for Morrowind. Not because it's your destiny. You have to believe that you're doing the right thing. You have to be sure about it. If you're not, you'll fail." He paused. "Are you sure about it, Fen?" She didn't answer for a moment. Julan had a point. _Was _she sure? She thought of all the time she had spent on Vvardenfell, how one year on this island had felt more like home to her than Mournhold ever had. And she thought of someone trying to take it from her, this place where she had met so many and where she had learned her purpose in this world. She thought of Dagoth Ur trying to rip it from her hands.

"I'm sure," she said firmly. Julan stared at her for a moment, but he seemed to accept it.

"Do you want to know a secret, Fen?" She nodded. "There have been times when I've wondered if I was doing the right thing," he said softly. "Dagoth Ur plans to drive the Empire from Morrowind. That's part of what the Incarnate is meant to do, too. Sometimes I wondered if the prophecies really meant that the Incarnate would join with Dagoth Ur, to free Morrowind. And...when we were on the mountain, that first time, I had a dream. A dream of Morrowind ruled by the Sixth House."

"What was it like?" Fen asked, knowing the answer.

"It was..." Julan hesitated. "…wonderful. The false gods and the Empire were destroyed, and the Dunmer were free. Everything was perfect...but even then I could tell there was something wrong with the image, a sickness about it all. I knew it wouldn't really be like that. But I was still so blind. I hated the Empire, hated the Tribunal, and sometimes I thought that anything would be better."

"Even Dagoth Ur?"

"Yes...sometimes...even Dagoth Ur. I told you I was blind. Now, I've seen enough of the Sixth House to know it isn't true. This land will become a place of misery, suffering and death if he isn't stopped. I may not like the Emperor, or the Tribunal, but...they're not evil. Things aren't so bad, really. Dagoth Ur is evil. I know destroying him is the right thing to do."

"You're right," Fen said firmly. "Let's finish this."

"Remember, Fen," Julan told her. "I'm not afraid to die, but that doesn't mean I'm planning on it. And if I'm not dying, you're certainly not dying either. This is no suicide mission. This is just like any other quest. We complete it, and we go home. Now let's do this."

Faces set, they started down the stairs. Almost as soon as they reached the first landing, a deep, handsome voice sounded, reverberating off the walls.

"_Come, Nerevar. Friend or traitor, come. Come and look upon the Heart and Akulakhan. And bring Wraithguard…I have need of it._"

"Fen?" Fen realized she had stopped dead upon hearing the voice, and Julan was looking at her quizzically. Despite the pleasant voice, there was something strange about it. Something…wrong.

"Did you hear…?" she started, and Julan shook his head. "Nothing. Let's go." They turned the corner and saw the stairs ended with a door, guarded by a single corprus monster. The monster fell dead easily, and they proceeded cautiously into the next room, which was dominated by a rectangle of flowing lava in the centre that lit the room with a fiery orange glow.

"_Come to the Heart Chamber. I wait for you there, where we last met, countless ages ago._"

The body of a Nord woman lay facedown beside the lava, the smell of her rotting flesh permeating the air. They passed her silently, continuing down the twisting maze of corridors. Down one hall, Fen saw a great, hulking dark shape gliding slowly along the floor. It was an Ascended Sleeper, an enormous creature with dozens of deformed tentacles sprouting from where there should have been a face. It sent a spiraling poison spell towards them at the same time Fen let off a frost spell. The two collided and there was a loud crash as the hallway filled with light. Fen pulled Julan to the ground to avoid the backlash and they remained unscathed with the Ascended Sleeper had turned to a pile of ash.

"_Come to me through fire and war. I welcome you._"

In the next room, they encountered an Ash Ghoul. Fen and Julan dispatched it, as well as the three Ash Slaves lurking in the corners, and proceeded down a short flight of stairs to another door.

"_Welcome, Moon-and-Star. I have prepared a place for you._"

"Fen, are you sure you're okay?" Julan said, peering at her face through the gloom.

"He's talking to me," she whispered. "He's trying to get into my head."

"Don't let him," Julan said firmly. "Don't let him, Fen. You've got to keep him out." Fen wasn't able to reply, however, for at that moment they were accosted by a second Ascended Sleeper.

A small room, a set of stairs, two Ash Zombies, another small room. They moved methodically, cutting down the creatures that tried to stop them.

"_Come. Bring Wraithguard to the Heart Chamber. Together, let us free the cursed false gods._"

They rounded a corner and were greeted by a Greater Bonewalker, a grotesque collection of bone and raw flesh often used to guard Dunmer ancestral tombs. _Fitting, _Fen thought grimly as they knocked the Bonewalker backward and Julan killed it with a well-placed arrow.

"_Welcome, Nerevar. Together we shall speak for the Law and the Land, and shall drive the mongrel dogs of the Empire from Morrowind._"

They proceeded deeper into the bowels of Dagoth Ur. The next room was a series of complex tunnels that led steadily downward. As they moved through the tunnels, Fen kept hearing quiet shifting noises above and below them, as if something was moving steadily.

They were soon met by the seventh and final Ash Vampire, Dagoth Gilvos, in a dim tunnel near the bottom of the confusing maze.

"_Is this how you honor the Sixth House, and the tribe unmourned? Come to me openly, and not by stealth._"

As Dagoth Gilvos fell, Fen went immediately forward to take the ring off his finger, for she had recognized it as a powerful object during their battle. Julan stood back, staring up at the ceiling, where the shifting was growing louder.

"Fen…" he said slowly. "I think –"

And then, quite suddenly, the hall was filled with dust and noise as a tear opened up in the metal ceiling and boulders rained down. Fen dove into a storage alcove, ducking her head as the rocks flew past her. After a long moment, the noise finally settled and she crawled gingerly out of the niche.

The hallway was filled with rubble up to the ceiling, rocks spilling out everywhere. Evidently, this part of the citadel was as unstable as the mine Shani had been trapped in. That seemed like years ago.

"Julan?" Fen called, her voice echoing. It sent chills up her spine.

"I'm okay!" His voice came from the other end of the rubble, muffled and strained-sounding. Fen scrambled up onto the rubble, struggling to shift the rocks aside. Many were too heavy, but she managed to clear a small hole through which she could see Julan, attempting the same thing.

"You're not hurt, are you?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said, struggling to climb up the rocks. "But now what do we do?" Fen didn't answer for a long moment.

"You try and shift some of this rock. If I'm not back in an hour, go back down to Ghostgate."

"_What_?!" Julan said incredulously. "Fen – no! I'm _not _letting you fight that lunatic on your own!"

"You're the one trapped behind a load of rocks!" Fen said hotly. She frowned. "I'll be fine. I'll contact you with the telepathy ring when I'm on my way back." She tried not to add _if I come back._

"Fen," Julan said quickly. "Be careful. I'm serious."

"I know." She gazed at him for a moment longer, then slid down to the ground again. She tried not to look back as she continued down the hall, though she could hear the faint sounds of Julan struggling to move the rock. She went down a short flight of stairs, then found herself at a door hewn out of rough wood, from behind which evil seemed to practically flow. She stopped before it, her hand resting on the rusted iron handle. Moon-and-Star glinted faintly on her ring finger, and Fen slowly removed her hand, bringing it up to her face to study the ring.

Nerevar's ring.

_No,_ Fen thought suddenly. _Not Nerevar. Me. It's mine now. _Fen clenched her fist and looked up at the door, her eyes narrowed. _This is _my _destiny. _Face set, she closed her fingers around the handle and pulled it open, stepping into the place she knew Dagoth Ur would be.


	39. Chapter 39

Fen's eyes adjusted slowly to the light. She was in a stone chamber, eerily reminiscent of Ilunibi with its draping vines and melted Sixth House candles. At the far end of the chamber, an familiar figure stood silently in the blood-coloured light of the candles.

"_Welcome, Moon-and-Star, to this place where destiny is made._"

Fen walked forward, her eyes narrowed in cold determination. The man looked exactly as he had in her dreams – tall, with a powerful-looking chest and a white cloth tied around his waist, held there by a belt bearing the Sixth House sigil. Sleek, dark hair hung over his shoulders, held in place by thick gold bands. His face, though – that was what she remembered the most.

A golden mask, round and topped by three wide strips as if it were a sunburst. The lips were impassive, the slots for the eyes dark slits with a third in the forehead. The mask had floated in her mind for months, and now it was here, watching her as she stepped forward into the crimson light of the candles.

"It began here. It will end here." This time, the words came from his mouth, rather than echoing in Fen's mind. The voice was so eerily familiar that she felt a chill rush down her spine.

"Now that you have come to me here, there can be but one result," Dagoth Ur said, the golden lips of his mask quite still. "Many times I have considered offering to share this place with you. I considered offering to accept your oath of service. You might try to buy my trust by giving me Wraithguard, Keening, and Sunder. I thought we might once again be friends...comrades...brothers in arms." Dagoth Ur crossed his arms, the dark slits of his eyes boring into her's. "But I have won this place and power by right of conquest. By right of daring and enterprise. I will not risk it to cunning and deceit. I offer you no deals. If you are my enemy, I cannot trust you. And even if you are not my enemy, I cannot let you live.

"It will all be decided here. I believe I will prevail. But I cannot be sure, and I am vain enough that, should I fall, I would wish to be remembered in my own words. So, if you have final questions you would ask, ask them now. I have final questions I would ask you, if you would answer." Fen drew her shoulders back, staring straight into the dark pools behind each eye slit.

"Then ask them."

"Are you truly Nerevar Reborn?"

"By the grace of the Gods and Fate, I am Nerevar Reborn."

"That is bitter," Dagoth Ur replied at once. His tone was hard to read. "The gods and fates are cruel. I served you faithfully once, Lord Nerevar, and you repaid me with death. I hope this time it will be you who pays for your faithlessness." Fen said nothing, and he continued. "My second question is: if you win, what do you plan to do with the power from the Heart? Will you make yourself a god, and establish a thearchy? Or will you complete Akulakhan, and dispute control of Tamriel with the Septims? Or will you share the Heart with your followers, as I have, and breed a new race of divine immortals?"

"My plans for the Heart are not ones that I would share with you," she said icily. There was a short silence, the distant throes of moving lava far beneath them. "Perhaps there may be surprises in store for me yet," Dagoth Ur replied finally. "Or perhaps you obscure your plans on principle. Or perhaps you are an instinctive liar. No matter. My final question is: if I had offered to let you join me, would you have surrendered Wraithguard, Sunder, and Keening to me to seal your oath?" Fen faltered. She thought of her dream, of Voryn Dagoth standing across from her on the grassy cliff, holding out his elegant hand, his eyes kind. She remembered how she had laid her hand in his, how the eye upon his forehead and snapped open and the world seemed to crumble to dust…

There was a way to rebuild Resadayn, and this was not it.

"I would never join you." Fen could almost sense Dagoth Ur's smirk beneath his mask.

"Thank you for your forthright response. And now, if you have any questions, ask them."

"What are _your _plans for the Heart?" she asked at once.

"I will continue to draw divine power from the Heart and distribute it to my kin and followers. I will continue to broadcast divine power upon the blight winds, so that it will touch each soul on Vvardenfell, and then more broadly, across the waters to the rest of Morrowind and Tamriel. In time, every mortal in Tamriel shall feel the liberating contact with the divine."

"And the Sixth House?"

"The Sixth House will serve as the elite cadre of our movement. As cultists evolve through various stages of enlightenment, they will become, as suits their abilities, either holy warriors or priests. Their duty is to prepare themselves for service; their joy and liberation is to enter ever-more-deeply into the profound enlightenment of the divine dreamworld."

"Then what of us?" Fen asked, opening her arms. "What of the Dunmer that hate and despise you, but hate and despise the Empire equally?"

"I will free the Dunmer from the Imperial yoke, and cast down the false gods of the Temple," he answered without hesitation. "I will lead them out of their ancient superstitions, and gift them with intimate knowledge of the divine. Then, perhaps, when Morrowind is once again restored to its ancient glories, it will be time to consider whether the Dunmer should cultivate ambitions of Empire." He paused. "You would have appreciated me in time as well, Nerevarine. I know you would have."

"Me?" Fen asked darkly, her hands curling into fists. "You have plagued my sleep with dreams since I arrived on this island. You have sent your madmen after me, spread my identity to the public, dispatched creatures to kill me in my sleep, infected me with corprus. You've rained the Blight down upon this land, bringing disease and sickness upon all it touches. You have crushed the hopes so many people, infecting their minds and their bodies. And you think I would be appreciative of these crimes?"

"If, by my crimes, you mean the inevitable suffering and destruction caused by war, then I accept the burden of leadership. The Sixth House cannot be restored without war. Enlightenment cannot grow without the risk of upsetting the tradition-bound and complacent herd. And the mongrel armies of the Empire cannot be expelled from Morrowind without bloodshed. As I have charity and compassion, I grieve. But our mission is just and noble."

"The Dwemer thought their mission was just and noble," she replied. "And now they are gone from this world forever, because of the temptation of the Heart."

"I have no idea what happened to the Dwemer," Dagoth Ur said dismissively. "I have been denied the opportunity to study Wraithguard, and I am not sure how much of Kagrenac's lore was invested in his tools, and how much in his own sorcery and mastery. I have long studied Kagrenac, and have come to admire his wisdom and craft. Someday, after the campaigns of the Sixth House are secure, I hope to have time to dedicate to this mystery."

"Then why," she asked slowly, "are you building Akulakhan? If the Dwemer, the most advanced civilization Mundus has ever seen, brought about their own death by trying, what would you do that is different?"

"Akulakhan will serve three purposes. First, it will be the champion of my armies, liberating first Vvardenfell, then Morrowind, and then, perhaps the rest of Tamriel. Second, it will serve as a sower and cultivator of the divine substance derived from the Heart. Three, it will serve as the prominent banner and symbol of our cause – to defy the Empire, to liberate mortals from ancient superstitions, and to glorify our crusade against the gods." Dagoth Ur lowered his arms slowly, stepping down from the rock on which he was perched. "So, Moon-and-Star, if you are done asking questions, we should conduct our business. A pity it has to come to this." Dagoth Ur raised his hands, preparing for a spell, but Fen hit him first, immediately knocking him backwards with a spell of God's Fire. Her mind was strangely clear. He sprang nimbly to his feet and came toward her, but she was ready with her Mages' Staff. She swung the staff, hard, into the side of his head, then thrust it into his chest, making him sputter. He fell backwards, only this time he did not rise up. Rather, Dagoth Ur's body exploded into gold light that enveloped the room for a fraction of a second, then was gone.

For a moment, Fen merely stood in disbelief, feeling her heartbeat pounding in her hands as she clutched her staff. Had she done it? Was Dagoth Ur gone without her even having to approach the Heart?

But no. To her left, there came a sudden loud grating, and an iron shell peeled back to reveal a door that had not been there before. It stopped halfway, leaving the path to the door clear. Fen slowly returned the staff to her back, crossing the cavern to stand before the portal. She reached out, resting one hand on the door. It was carved with an intricate drawing of the Numidium, surrounded by Dwemer text. This had to be the Heart Chamber, the place where the Daedra had hidden Lorkhan's heart thousands of years ago.

The place where every moment of her life had been taking her.

It was here.


	40. Chapter 40

Dagoth Ur was waiting. He stood at the edge of a platform, a taunting smile beneath his glimmering mask, his face darkened from the light of the monstrous sight behind him. The platform dropped off steeply, revealing that the Heart Chamber was an enormous cavern, so high up that the ceiling was in shadow. In its center stood Akulakhan, a colossal construct built of corprus meat and ash, surrounded by ash servants. Its eyes were round and staring, letting off clouds of blood-colored steam. A machine god first built by the Dwemer, copied by Dagoth Ur for his own desires.

"What a fool you are," Dagoth Ur shouted, and his voice rose high above the other noises in the chamber – clattering, whirring, and far below, the roar of flowing lava. Dagoth Ur flicked his wrist easily, sending a lethal-looking spell towards Fen. She sprang to the side, sprawling, hard, on the metal floor. Dagoth Ur let out a cruel laugh. "I am a god! You cannot kill a god! What a grand and intoxicating innocence!" He sent another spell at her and she ducked, knowing it would be no good to fight him until the Heart was destroyed. "How could you be so naïve? There is no escape. No Recall or Intervention will work in this place!" He was taunting her, seeing how long it took until she would try to attack him. She ducked another spell that hit a pipe behind her and broke it so that searing-hot steam poured out. "Come, lay down your weapons," Dagoth Ur continued as Fen struggled for her bag. "It is not too late for my mercy." Another spell raced toward her. She rolled out of the way, fumbling. Finally she found it – her Slowfall amulet. Clutching the amulet in her left hand, Fen reached for Sunder with her right, shielded by Wraithguard. She had hung both the dagger and the hammer on her belt so that she would not have to struggle for them, which proved to be a wise choice. She stood, dodging another spell, and sprinted straight toward his spot at the edge of the platform. Dagoth Ur took a surprised step back, but she ran past him, leaping over the edge of the platform and clutching Sunder and the amulet tightly in her hands.

There was a rickety wooden bridge directly below her, stretching from the platform below Dagoth Ur's to the waist of Akulakhan, where she could see something faintly shimmering. Fen squeezed the Slowfall amulet as she hurtled toward the bridge, activating it and drifting the last few feet. The bridge was decrepit and rotten, though, and as she landed it flipped over, forcing her to drop the Slowfall amulet and seize the edge of the bridge to keep from plummeting into the lava far below. As she struggled to climb back onto the bridge, the board she was clutching snapped and she seized the ropes it had been bound to, trying not to look down as it spiraled into the lava. Still clinging to Sunder, she pulled herself up with a mighty heave, wiping the sweat from her brow.

High above, she could hear Dagoth Ur shouting orders to the Ash servants that occupied the edges of the chamber. She quickly started across the rickety bridge, struggling to keep her balance as it swung from side to side. At the end, in the belly of Akulakhan, she could see it – the Heart of Lorkhan, a giant, pulsating muscle nearly the size of her torso, beating gently where it was attached to two pipes.

The bridge shook with a sudden impact and Fen felt herself rising with it. Dagoth Ur had landed on the bridge behind her. Only a short ways away from Akulakhan, she leaped to avoid the backlash of the bridge, landing on the platform of the Second Numidium's stomach. Below, the heat of the bright orange lava let off a searing heat, and Fen felt her hair sticking to her face, her robe clinging to her body.

Dagoth Ur was approaching quickly. There was no time. Fen struggled to her feet, seized one of the pipes the Heart was attached to for balance, and raised Sunder high. With a snarl, she brought it down, hard, upon the pulsating flesh of the Heart of Lorkhan. The Heart contracted suddenly to the shape of the hammer, releasing a pure, loud bell tone that rang throughout the chamber. Fen hurriedly replaced Sunder to her belt, reaching for Keening.

Before she could react, she had been seized from behind and thrown, and she was flying through the air, Keening slipping from her fingers. She hit the wall, then the ground, hard. Gasping for breath, Fen struggled to stand, and she suddenly felt long fingers curl around her neck. Then Dagoth Ur's face was staring into her's, pinning her against the stone wall, slowly choking her.

"You think that you can defeat me?" he hissed as she clawed hopelessly at his hand. "You think that you, a pathetic mortal, can challenge me? You are _nothing_, Fenara. You have reached this place by sheer luck and at the expense of others. You have done nothing but climb their shoulders to reach the top. You are useless, weak, more of a Blight upon this land than I will ever create. When you are dead and the Second Numidium walks upon the earth of Mundus, the Dunmer will praise me for destroying you." The lines of his face were slowly blurring. She was losing consciousness. Her head throbbed, and she found herself wishing for the end. Desperately praying it would all just stop.

Then, quite suddenly, Dagoth Ur was thrown to the side, releasing her. She crumpled to the ground, gasping, squinting around to try and make sense of what had happened. Then she saw him – Julan, standing at the base of the platform with his bow poised.

"Fen!" he called, and he blasted a spell at the ground. Keening was there, and it flew into the air toward her. Fen leapt up, snatching the dagger out of the air with Wraithguard and turning back towards the bridge.

She could hear Dagoth Ur screeching behind her, but she kept her eyes on the Heart as it drew ever nearer, Keening glowing brightly in her hand. Putting on a final burst of speed, Fen seized the pipe to steady herself and thrust Keening into the fleshy surface of the heart.

Behind her, Dagoth Ur let out an agonizing cry.

"_What are you doing?! STOP!_" A hole formed in the heart where Fen had stabbed it and light poured out, distorting the bell tone to a slightly out-of-tune pitch. Fen ground Keening into the Heart a second time, distorting the tone further and letting out another thin beam of light.

"_NOOOOOOOOOOO!_" Fen flipped Keening around in her hand so its point faced downward and stabbed the top of the Heart, twisting the knife so that the hole there widened, letting out an enormous strip of clear light and making the bell tone waver. She then pulled Keening downward in one smooth motion, ripping the Heart of Lorkhan open from top to bottom.

Light burst out, blinding her, and the bell tone was replaced by a sudden clashing, as if the bell had been cut from its rope. The heart folded in on itself, still letting out shoots of impossibly bright light, and spun smaller and smaller until it was gone.

Fen turned. Dagoth Ur was racing towards her, snarling with fury as she felt Akulakhan start to rumble beneath her. Keening slipped out of her hand and she blasted a sweltering God's Fire at him. Dagoth Ur flipped backward, clutching onto the edges of the swinging bridge as the aftereffects of the spell faded. His muscular body was blackened and burned, blood pouring thickly from where Julan's arrow had struck him and soaking into the cloth around his waist. He looked up at her, sweat gleaming on his shoulders. She could tell, somehow, that the face beneath the mask was furious.

The mad god leapt to his feet and scrambled across the precariously shifting bridge towards her. She didn't have enough energy left to use another powerful spell like God's Fire, and her Mages' Staff had long since slipped off its place on her back. She went for the next best thing – Keening lying on the ground, the crystal blade glittering faintly in the dim light. As Dagoth Ur reached the platform, he charged toward her, a furious snarl issuing from behind his mask. Fen clutched Keening in her hand, bracing herself for impact.

He seized her shoulders as he bowled into her, slamming her into the pipes where, moments ago, the Heart of Lorkhan had been funneling life into Akulakhan. He pinned her free hand down with one long-clawed hand, and as she started to thrust Keening towards him with the other, he seized it, struggling against her to push it away. Fen clenched her teeth, never taking her eyes off the narrow slits in his mask, through which she could see his eyes, dark and wide. She pushed her knee up suddenly, hitting his leg with her's and momentarily breaking his concentration. The second his long fingers on her wrist slackened, she thrust Keening upward and into his abdomen.

Dagoth Ur gasped suddenly, his body stiffening, and Fen immediately took the opportunity to shove him roughly off of her and spring to her feet. Without hesitation, she sheathed Keening and sprinted toward Julan on the other side, feeling the rope bridge begin to give way beneath her and hoping desperately that Dagoth Ur did not have enough strength to get back up. Just as she was about to reach the other, the wood under her snapped and she felt herself plummeting downward.

Fen snatched at the broken bridge, managing to catch one of the rotting boards. She was about to heave herself up when she felt a long-fingered hand seize her ankle.

"_I WILL NOT DIE LIKE THIS, NEREVAR._" Fen glanced down. Dagoth Ur was there, dragging her down and panting heavily as they slipped closer to hurtling into the lava. "_IF I PERISH, YOU WILL PERISH WITH ME!_" Her hands were sweaty, and she was slowly losing her grip on the bridge as the lava roared beneath her, beckoning her ever closer. She sent a feeble deflect spell down at him and it struck one of the sunbursts of his mask, flipping it off his face and sending it spiraling down into the rolling lava below. His face was sunken, paper-thin skin gathered unnaturally around his bulging eyes, startlingly different from his muscular body. It was a face that showed everything he had lost, all he had sacrificed in his uncontrollable lust for power. A face that Fen knew had once been handsome and full of life. Now, it was merely the husk of the person he used to be.

Dagoth Ur was panting heavily with the effort of holding on, despite Fen's furious kicks to be rid of him. Using the last bit of magicka she had, she sent a frost spell down at him. It was weak, but it was enough. He released her and his furious roar echoed through the chamber as he plummeted downward, joining his gold mask in the roiling orange lava.

"Fen!" Julan shouted from somewhere above her, and she forced her gaze away from the roaring heart of the volcano and seized his hand. He pulled her up and onto the platform and they scrambled away from the edge as the ground shook beneath them. Fen turned quickly, and the sight before her rendered her temporarily speechless.

Akulakhan was slowly falling apart. The destruction of the Heart of Lorkhan made the Second Numidium useless, and it began to crumble into the lava it stood in. Soon, there was nothing left in the great empty space in the middle of the Heart Chamber. The room shook violently, raining dust and rocks down from the ceiling. "Let's go!" Julan shouted, and he grabbed Fen's hand, knowing she had no magicka left, and cast a powerful levitate spell she had taught him, sending them both up to the uppermost platform, where the shell around the door had cranked open. Dodging falling boulders and chunks of metal, they sprinted for the exit, pushing through and landing on the other side just as a horrible crash sounded behind them. Fen and Julan stumbled to the ground in the cavern, letting the shell grate loudly closed behind them. For a moment, they both just lay there, stunned.

"I don't believe it," Fen finally said. "We did it."

"_Yes,_" someone answered, but it wasn't Julan. "_You did._" Fen sat bolt upright, and her eyes widened at what she saw in front of the door.

It was a woman, a beautiful, dark-skinned Dunmer woman in a swirling dress of blue silk. There was an odd glow around her, as if she wasn't quite there. Fen and Julan got slowly to their feet, then Julan instantly sank down on his knee.

"Azura."

The woman smiled, and she outstretched her hands toward Fen.

"_You no longer bear the burden of prophecy.__  
__You have achieved your destiny.__  
__You are free.__  
__The doomed Dwemer's folly, Lord Dagoth's temptation,__  
__the Tribunal's seduction, the god's heart freed,__  
__the prophecy fulfilled.__  
__All fates sealed and sins redeemed.__  
__If you have pity, mourn the loss, but let the weeping cease.__  
__The Blight is gone, and the sun's golden honey gilds the land.__  
__Hail savior, Hortator, and Nerevarine.__  
__Your people look to you for protection.__  
__Monster and villains great and small still threaten the people of Vvardenfell.__  
__Enemies and evils abound, yet indomitable will might rid Morrowind of all its ills.__  
__For you, our thanks and blessings; our gift and token given.__  
__Come; take this thing from the hand of god."_

Azura made a smooth gesture and a small white ring materialized in the air before her. With that, the Daedra Goddess offered a final small smile and blurred until she was a small light that faded from view. Fen silently stood and moved toward it. She placed both hands beneath the ring and it dropped easily into her palms. As soon as it touched her skin, she felt warm and safe, even in this dark and evil place.

In silence, she and Julan made their way back through the empty citadel, through the small hole Julan had made in the rockfall and up countless flights of stairs to the door. Julan had raised his hood in preparation for the ashstorm, but Fen pushed it open to a clear, bright sky. They stared upward in amazement at the dark, brooding Dwemer towers contrasting so vividly with the bright blue afternoon streaked with clouds. A cliffracer drifted lazily overhead. The lava in the crater below had dried to a hardened crust. Red Mountain slept once more.

"I never want to see a Dwemer ruin again," Julan said, scratching his head. A load of sand showered down from his hair. "Gah…this is going to take me weeks to get rid of." He looked at Fen and smiled. "So. How does it feel to be free?" She gave him a questioning look. "You're no longer bound by your destiny...if you ever really were. How does it feel?"

"I…don't know," she responded truthfully. "You know, it's strange. I always pictured him as some sort of horrible entity, like a…a _thing _that couldn't be touched. But when the Heart was destroyed, he was just a man. He was just meat and bones, like you and me."

"We're all just meat and bones, when it comes down to it," Julan told her, stepping out from the shadow of the Citadel to look up at the sky. "That's all any of us are. And it doesn't do to go messing with the fates and try to change it."

"I think we can all see that," Fen answered softly, pulling Keening from her belt. It was still smeared with Dagoth Ur's blood, and she turned it in her protected hand, watching the sunlight radiate off its crystal blade.

"So what will you do now?" she asked after a time, sheathing Keening and sitting down on a large broken brick to stare up at the sky.

"Me? Uh...well...I'm not busy." Julan sat down on the brick beside her. "Don't have any real plans at the moment. Why...any ideas?"

"Don't you have an Ashlander tribe to lead?" Fen asked, nudging him with her elbow.

"Oh, they can manage without me for a while," Julan said breezily, and Fen grinned broadly. "If we're going to regain our strength as a tribe, they need to learn to cope on their own! Anyway, I'm sure Sinnammu can take care of things. So...what do you want to do?" Fen let out a weak laugh.

"I'm sure we can think of something."


	41. Chapter 41

The following weeks passed in an unintelligible blur. There were so many things to do – visit the Urshilaku camp to tell Nibani of her triumph, post a letter to Caius Cosades, travel to all the councilors and thank them for their support, replenish all the potions they had used, confirm to Orvas Dren that the operation of the Ghostfence was no longer necessary. And everywhere she went, people approaching her, some only staring reverently, some throwing themselves into her arms, sobbing their thanks.

When there was at last a peaceful moment, it found Fen in her study in the guildhall of Vivec, studying herself in the mirror. It was almost the exact same as the first time she had met Vivec – her hair was braided neatly, the Robe of the Hortator hung perfectly on her frame, Moon-and-Star glinted on her finger. Except that for this meeting, she was planning on being far less intimidated.

She and Julan made their way through the darkening walkways of Vivec, speaking little. The cantons were mostly quiet save for a few patrolling Ordinators that shot Fen dark looks as she passed. They knew that the elimination of the Sixth House threat meant that Ordinators would not be needed and they would soon lose their positions. The slumbering city seemed to breathe deeply, as if relieved.

Just as it had been the first time, the long flight of stairs up to Vivec's palace was unguarded, and they walked freely inside. The Warrior Poet floated placidly upon his plinth, watching them with his strange, wide eyes.

"The blight is gone, and we have survived," he said as the door closed softly behind them. "Now we must dedicate ourselves to rebuilding the Temple. And you must dedicate yourself to your responsibilities as Protector of Morrowind.

"We have lost our divine powers, but not altogether. Some token of the people's faith remains, and we shall dedicate it to rebuilding the Temple. Now that Dagoth Ur is gone, we can turn our energies to the more humble needs of the people. It is good, honest work, and I believe there is redemption in it.

"There are still issues to be resolved between the Temple and the Dissident Priests. And now that our greatest enemy is gone, we must reorganize the Temple to meet the needs of the people. We have less need of Ordinators, for example, and greater need of priests and healers and teachers. And we must find time to mourn and honor the dead." Vivec's eyes narrowed. "And for you, Fen, there is much to do. You still have Kagrenac's Tools, potent weapons, and the wit and experience of a proven hero. The Tribunal and the Temple are happy to yield to you the duties of fighting the enemies of Morrowind. And now, I sense that you have questions for me, Nerevarine."

"Yes," Fen said at once, crossing her arms. "You made an oath to Azura. You swore not to use Kagrenac's tools. Why did you break it?"

"Along with Lord Nerevar, and at his insistence, Almalexia, Sotha Sil, and I swore before our god of oaths at the time, the Daedra Lord Azura, never to employ the tools of Kagrenac for any purpose. We broke our oaths. We turned our backs on the old gods. I still see no compelling reason to worship any of the Aedra or Daedra. But, for the respect I held for Nerevar, and the respect I held for myself, I should never have betrayed my oath. Of all my life's actions, I most regret that failure." Fen considered this skeptically, but went on.

"Why did you try to kill me? _This_ me – not Nerevar. Why did you persecute the Nerevarine when you knew I was destined to destroy Dagoth Ur?"

"Why did I try to kill you? Because you threatened the faith of my followers, and I needed their faith to hold back the darkness. And I thought you were my enemy – a pawn of the subtle Daedra Lord Azura, or a pawn of Emperor Uriel Septim, or a power-seeker like your father, or a simple fraud – perhaps a Hero – but not much of one if my faithful could destroy you. Now circumstances are altered. I needed you, and you needed me."

"Then why did you try to suppress the Apographa?" Fen pressed. "Because it would make people question their faith in you?"

"Because it was such an unfortunate mixture of truth, falsehood, and speculation that I couldn't afford to manage the confused reaction of our faithful," he answered unconvincingly. "Any doubt whatsoever weakened their faith, and we needed their faith to give us the power to maintain the Ghostfence. In retrospect, perhaps we lost the faith of those we most needed while preserving the faith of the meek and indifferent. Perhaps a mistake was made. Who can say?"

"_I _can say," Fen said angrily. "I saw firsthand the effects of your godhood. It put people under the false impression of safety and it made them doubt me, when _I _was the one who would put an end to Dagoth Ur. The Apographa contained no lies, and you know it. You were afraid of what the people would think of you. I've read your sermons, Vivec, and you try to come off as one that takes immortality very lightly. You act as if it is nothing, and even now you pretend that you are not angered by the destruction of the Heart.

"You can tell me as many times as you want that you didn't murder Nerevar, but after all you've done, the chances that I'll believe you are thin. You broke your oath to Azura, turned away from the old gods, and schemed and murdered simply because of your own lust for power." Fen narrowed her eyes. "When we first spoke, you talked to me as if Dagoth Ur was evil straight through. At the Battle of Red Mountain, when he was still Voryn Dagoth and an ally of Nerevar's, he begged you not to use the tools. You may insist that he went mad under their influence, but he was the one trying to do right, trying to prevent you from causing all the destruction you have.

"Have you ever considered that the Blight, the Sixth House crisis – _all _of it was your fault? Tell me all the falsehoods you wish, Vivec, but I see right through you." With that, Fen turned, yanked open the door, and stepped outside, slamming it on Vivec's furious face.

"Gods, Fen," Julan said brightly, following her down the long stairs of Vivec's palace. "That was impressive."

"It's past time someone told him that," she answered grimly. "And the rest of the Tribunal could do with telling as well."

"Fen," Julan said slowly as they stepped on to the bridge onto the Temple canton. "You don't think your father will hear about this and…come after you, will he?"

"I'm sure he's heard about it already," she replied softly. "But I doubt he'll come after me. As long as I stay out of Mournhold, he's happy."

"You don't sound very bitter about it."

"I'm not," she said truthfully. "I was thinking about this while we were in Dagoth Ur, Julan." She stopped in the centre of the bridge, going to the edge to stare out at the water. "In the year that I've lived in Vvardenfell, I've felt more like this is my home than I ever did at the palace. I would only want to go back there again if I could be welcomed for…well, for _me._ In Mournhold, I was always an outsider." She smiled, leaning on the edge of the bridge and letting the cool wind blow against her face. "Until that happens, I would much prefer to stay in Vvardenfell." Fen looked back at Julan. "You go on and meet me in the guildhall, all right?" she said to Julan. "I want to think a bit."

Saying the words she had been thinking for so long made them real, and any doubt about this statement she might have had was instantly gone. Fen looked up at the evening sky, slowly succumbing to night, Masser and Secunda rising side by side into the heavens. Directly above her, Azura's star shone brightly, and she stood on the bridge watching it until it slowly faded into the night.


End file.
